


A Thrilling Chase

by annegoddamn



Series: Thrilling Chase Saga [1]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aladdin (1992) Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, Disney, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Friendship, Magic, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Planet Namek, Planet Vegeta, Romance, Saiyan Culture, Saiyans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 15:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 113,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16600394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annegoddamn/pseuds/annegoddamn
Summary: She's a genius involved in prolonged indentured servitude. He's a prince almost completely closed off from the rest of the universe. Both are trapped by their circumstances. Perhaps a magic ball can help them get out of it. The Vegeta/Bulma Aladdin AU that no one demanded.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My pride and joy fanfiction saga is finally going up on FF.net. I have put it off for so long because of how long it is, but I'm finally doing it. I'll be uploading at least three chapters a day on her until I have this story, its spin-off, and what I have completed of its sequel is up. If you're impatient, this story is complete on Fanfiction.net, so go read it over there, and be sure to take a gander at the spin-off, Somebody's Got Your Back, and what I have of its sequel, A Wondrous Place, when you're done. Enjoy!
> 
> Originally posted on Fanfiction.net October 24th, 2016

King Vegeta marched out of his study and through the hallways of the palace. The sergeant he invited to the palace had just left extremely upset. That was the fifth time this month that had happened. And he had been so sure that she would be a good pick for the future queen.

He groaned, as he brought his hand to his forehead. "What am I going to do with that boy?"

The king went to the palace courtyard. There, his son was practicing a kata by himself. The king cleared his throat to get his attention.

"Do I even want to know what you said to Navet to get her out of the palace that quickly?" he asked, exasperatedly.

The prince lowered himself to the ground, and walked past his father. "Nothing she didn't have coming."

The king sighed and followed his son. "Vegeta, you can't keep turning down every suitor who comes to call. Must I remind you of the law? You must be mated with an elite Saiyan by your next birthday." The prince rolled his eyes while his father lectured him, again, and he mouthed out the words as he spoke. "For gods' sake, you've only got a week left."

"And how is that my fault?

The king roughly put a hand on his son's shoulder to stop him. He didn't intend for it to be so forceful, but the boy was grating his patience. "Son, would you please listen to me for one minute. It isn't just the law. Eventually you will take my place on the throne. After that, you will need to help our family line continue. If you don't have a mate to give you an heir, then everything our family built for generations will be for nothing."

Vegeta shook off his father's hand, and scoffed. "Have you finished lecturing me? I'd like to get back to my training."

The king sighed "Promise me something, first. If another suitor shows up, will you at least try to give her a chance before running her out of the palace?"

"If she doesn't give me a reason to, I won't." The prince walked away before his father could say another word.

Vegeta absolutely hated being forced into courtship. He never had any interest in love or romance, but if he did mate, he wanted it to be for something other than a title or an heir. Some might call that too sentimental, but he'd prefer to be bound for life with someone that didn't make him want to tear his tail off.

He continued his way down the hallway to a training room. Nappa was there, waiting for him: one of the Saiyan's most respected generals and a member of the king's council. Since he was a young boy, Nappa acted as a bit of a surrogate father to the prince. At times, Vegeta found him to be more fatherly than the king tried to be.

"Afternoon, Vegeta," Nappa addressed.

He grunted, as they prepared to spar.

"What happened, this time?"

"The usual: Woman pretends to be in love with me. I say something to piss her off. Father lectures to me about how important finding a mate is."

"Have you ever tried to listen to any of them?"

He shrugged. "What difference would it make? I've heard every line a million times."

As usual, Nappa and Vegeta began their daily sparring. However, Vegeta was tense and distracted. He was not fighting at his full strength: very unlike him. After landing blows on him too often, Nappa stopped and returned to a more relaxed stance.

"What?" Vegeta asked, in an irritated tone.

Nappa crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What's wrong?" Vegeta raised an eyebrow, in confusion. "You were distracted the whole time. I know how fast you are, and I shouldn't have been able to hit you as many times as I did. What is it?"

"You're not my psychiatrist, Nappa."

"I'm not trying to be. But you're clearly letting something get to you."

Vegeta growled. "Fine. I'm sick of being held up in this damn palace. I'd take being a low-class if it meant I could go out wherever I wanted or not have to worry about finding a mate. But no. A prince must go here and never out there. A prince must address everyone with respect, even if they don't deserve it. A prince must mate a total stranger. It's absurd! People always go on and on about how lucky I am to be privileged, and that I shouldn't take it for granted. I'd like to see them try to live as a prince for one day; they'd be glad to return to their homes, by the end of it." Without another word, he stormed out of the room, leaving Nappa behind.

* * *

After his son stormed off, King Vegeta retreated to his throne room. He tried to reason with his son, but no matter what he did, all attempts were met with hostility and rebellion. He didn't understand why his son wouldn't just go through with mating a strong, Saiyan woman. He had put up with his hesitancy for a while, thinking that he just needed to meet the right woman. He, himself, hated being betrothed to another and he didn't change his mind until he met the boy's mother. However, with every passing day, it became very clear that the young Vegeta didn't want to mate, at all. He had never seen him give a woman so much as a second glance. The king sighed, dragging his hand down his face. Why couldn't his son accept some form of responsibility? He would be king, one day, and would need a mate to produce strong heirs. Yet, all he wanted to do was train.

With only a week left, the King had two choices: let his son go unmated and end the Vegeta family reign with him; or simply force him to mate with an elite Saiyan woman, whether he wanted to or not. Most of the court would have their minds set on the latter option. Still, he knew his son would never forgive him for that. He didn't want to lose him anymore than he already had.

The king's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming near his throne. His apprehension faded when he saw who it was.

"Frieza, thank the gods you're here," he sighed. "You came just in time."

"I am humbly at your service, your majesty," the king's advisor replied, with notable calmness. "You seem distraught. What's troubling you?"

"It's this damn suitor business. Vegeta refuses to choose a mate. I'm at my wits end."

Frieza frowned, slightly. "Oh dear. Perhaps I can be of assistance?"

"If anyone can help, Frieza, it's you."

He chuckled. "You're too kind, sire. However, I will require access to the palace records, to make this possible."

The king hesitated. As much as he trusted his advisor, he was never one to freely give someone access to his private records that easily. "You're absolutely certain you need first hand access to them. I can easily send in a scribe to retrieve information for you."

"No, no. I'd much rather see the documents in person," Frieza turned towards his higher-up, smiled at him.

The king sighed. "Alright. I'll tell the guards to allow you to enter."

"You are most gracious indeed, your majesty. Anything else you'll need?"

"Not at the moment, no. Thank you, Frieza. Please, tell me of anything you can find." With that, he left the room.

Once the king was out of sight, Frieza rolled his eyes and groaned. For twenty years, he's had to put up with the king's idiocy and his near complete lack of strength as a ruler. Regardless of his efforts, no amount of manipulation could fix incompetency.

After his brother was made next in line for the crown of the Cold empire, Frieza knew his chances of becoming a ruler of anything were slim. So, when he met King Vegeta after his final victory over the Tuffles, he offered his services as an advisor. Ever since then, he'd been biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and take his rightful place on the throne. With the king distracted, he had mercenaries search throughout the galaxy for the traces of an artifact; one that would give him whatever he desired. Just a few months ago, he was alerted that there were signs of it on a planet just a few hours away. However, Frieza was never one to get his hands too dirty, and he needed someone to go after it. Now, with the archives opened to him, he had the name and records of every person living on the planet. All he needed to do now is to find the perfect canary.

* * *

Vegeta was sitting in the rafters, snooping in on a conversation about him. Nappa was discussing what had happened with him, earlier that day. He and a few other generals were throwing around ideas of what they could do about his 'attitude'. In constast with the others, Nappa thought that letting him out of the palace for a normal day in the city would do him some good.

_"_ _Look, Vegeta's not a kid who likes to be told what to do, and he's stuck in a position where he has ten people breathing down his neck and judging every tiny thing he does. Nearly twenty years of that has worn him down, and this suitor business was probably the last straw. I'm not saying 'throw him into a big crowd and see what happens', but maybe one or two days outside of the palace would cool him down. The kid's been putting up with the court's crap for a long time; I think he's earned a bit of free time."_

The prince had visited the city before, but it was always for some royal duty: never for leisure. He didn't object to Nappa's idea, but he knew his father would reject it before he even heard the proper terms. With that thought, he decided that enough was enough.

Late, that evening, he slowly exited his room from the window. He wasn't dressed in his normal Saiyan armor; he wore an older, more worn out model. If he wore his royal attire, he'd attract too much attention. Knowing that flying over the palace walls would cause the guard's scouters to go off, he decided to climb up and over them. Before beginning his ascent, he looked back at the palace. Immediately, a wave of hesitation fell over him. Just as quickly, he shook it off, and slowly climbed over the bricks. Once at the top, he slid off the edge and into the city.

Finally, he was free.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally Posted on Fanfiction.net October 28th, 2016

Vegeta spent most of his morning exploring the town outside of the palace. He didn't strike up conversations with the locals; he was perfectly content observing them from the curbside. It wasn't much more than he was expecting, but it was still a breath of fresh air. He could definitely get used to the unpredictability and liveliness of the city; especially compared to the sterility of the palace.

He mostly kept his head down, and walked around the bazaar silently. If any soldiers recognized him, he'd be shipped back to his father in an instant. He couldn't do anything that might bring him attention.

Then, something caught his eye. There was a woman walking in his direction, a little ways down the street. She clearly wasn't a Saiyan. She was small and kind of scrawny, with bright blue hair and eyes. Still, something about her struck his curiosity. Without even thinking, he started walking towards her.

Before he got very far, he saw a soldier approach her and put a hand on her shoulder. He looked like one of Frieza's men - the purple skin, orange hair, and horns were typical for a lot of members of the his elite. Vegeta didn't like the way he was looking at her very much. She rolled her eyes and tried to walk away, but he just grabbed her and pulled her into his chest. Vegeta couldn't hold back his growl, and marched over there.

The woman started pounding her fists into his chest. He laughed. "You think you can hurt me with your puny power level!"

"Leave me alone, you creep!" she yelled, getting more and more distressed.

Vegeta flared his ki, setting off the soldier's scouter. He looked over at him.

"I suggest you do as she says."

The soldier was very frightened by Vegeta's power level. He looked down at the woman, threw her down like a cursed idol, and ran away.

She grimaced as she hit the ground hard. "AND DON'T COME BACK!" she yelled at him while shaking her fist.

Vegeta smirked. She had a lot of spirit. He knelt down next to her. She didn't look injured, but a large bruise was forming where the man was grabbing her. "You alright?" he asked.

She jumped, forgetting that he was there. "Yeah. I'm fine."

He grunted, and stood up. He offered her his hand. She took it, and pulled herself back up. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He still wasn't sure why he was compelled to step in when he did, but he wasn't regretting it. When he felt people staring, he quickly walked to the curb, taking her with him. Once they were in the thick of the crowd, he let go of her hand and walked away.

"Wait," she said, running after him. "I didn't catch your name."

"Didn't throw it."

"Well, I've never seen you around the city, before, and if I see you again, I want to be able to call you by your name." He grunted. "I'm not trying to get money out of you. You can at least try to talk to me."

"Don't make me regret saving you, woman."

"My name is Bulma!"

"And?"

"I don't appreciate being addressed by my gender!"

He snorted.

"What's so funny?!"

"You are far too easy to bait, woman."

"Bulma!"

"I heard it the first time."

"Then why don't you call me that?!"

"Because it irritates you."

She hit his shoulder. "Jerk."

He smirked. Unlike every other woman he's interacted with, she wasn't trying desperately to please him. It was refreshing. He wasn't quite sure if he was ready to leave her side, yet. "Where are you off to?"

"My place. It's not too far from here. Why?"

"I thought I would walk you there. Make sure something like that doesn't happen again."

She gaped at him "You're… you're serious?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Why wouldn't I be?"

After a few more moments of silence, she replied. "Okay. Just… follow me."

They didn't speak to each other for the rest of the way back. Nothing more than a glance or a smile. Despite her earlier gusto, she seemed suddenly sheepish. He could have sworn that her cheeks and nose were turning slightly red. He didn't know or understand why. Maybe it was a strange alien behavior that he didn't know of.

* * *

King Vegeta was just finishing speaking to a visitor when Nappa walked into the throne room, looking a bit more fidgety than usual.

"Your majesty," Nappa said, while taking a knee.

"Nappa. I assume you have something to report."

"You haven't seen the prince today, have you?"

The king groaned, when he remembered their encounter the previous day. "I haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon. Why?"

"I don't think he's here. I checked all over the palace. I've talked to everyone I know he's with frequently, and they haven't seen him, either. I think he may have run away."

King Vegeta stood up from his throne, suddenly very interested in what he had to say. "What? Why would you think that?"

"Your majesty, he's been acting touchier, than usual. Something could've set him off."

The king clenched his fists, and his eyes lit up with anger. "Send twenty men to search the city and tell them not to come back unless they hear anything about my son's whereabouts. Understood?"

"Right away, sire," Nappa affirmed. He saluted, and walked out of the throne room. King Vegeta appeared to be in no mood to hear about what his son had told him, so Nappa decided to save it for another time.

The king let out a barely audible growl in anger and frustration. He was going to have a few choice words for his son about responsibility, when he returned.

* * *

Bulma opened the door to her shack, and turned on the light. The shack had two rooms; a bathroom and everything else. The place was bare, save a few essentials such as a bed and kitchenette. A small desk was pushed against the wall, and various sketches, papers, and equations were pasted onto the wall around it.

"You live here." Vegeta noted, breaking the silence.

"Yup. Hold your applause. I know it's breathtaking," she answered.

He looked up at the papers on the wall, and studied them. They were actually blueprints of various inventions. Not only were they incredibly detailed, but some of the technology seemed light years ahead of what was readily available on the planet. He was rather impressed.

Bulma noticed what he was looking at. "Yeah, those are some of my projects. A few of them are unfinished, but I get more inspired when my work's staring me in the face."

"You did these all by yourself?"

"Some of them. My father started a few of them, before I left home. I thought a different planet might have a resource that we didn't have back home."

"Where is home?"

Bulma was hesitant to answer. "Earth."

"How did an Earthling end up all the way out here?"

"It's a long story. You've probably got somewhere else to be."

He pulled a stool from the small dining table and sat down.

She snorted and jumped on her bed, sitting on the edge. "I was kind of a prodigy, when I was a little girl. I breezed through school really quickly and entered university when I was fourteen."

"What's university?"

"Higher level education. On Earth, it isn't a requirement, but good jobs are scarce for people who don't go through at least some of it. Anyways, I graduated with a doctor's when I was 19, and got a job offering here. They promised that all of the expenses would be covered and I could return home whenever I wanted to…" she paused. "Then, I found out there was a bunch of nasty fine print that said I had to pay for it all, eventually. I didn't bring any zeni with me, because it was worthless and I didn't think I'd need it, so I was forced to work off my debt. You can probably figure out what I've been doing for the past three years."

"So, what about you?" she asked, shifting on the mattress.

"What about me?"

She laughed. "I tell you my life story and you think you can get away without telling me anything?"

"What's there to tell? I left home and I'm not going back."

"How come?"

"Why do you care?"

She shrugged. "Just curious."

He groaned. If she was so open with her past, then so should he, even just a little bit. "If you must know, my father's forcing me into courtship."

Bulma could feel her heart drop to her stomach. "That's awful… I'm so sorry…"

"Spare me your pity. Not like you had anything to do with it."

She decided not to press on, thinking that it was a touchy subject for him. Then, a realization hit her. "What's your name?"

"Hn?"

"We've been talking this whole time, and I don't even know your name."

He paused for a moment. "Vegeta."

"Like this planet?"

"I suppose."

"You're not really one for small talk, are you?"

"Like that's going to stop you."

She was about to shout at him until she saw that dumb smirk on his face. Instead, she crossed her arms and looked away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"Don't pout. You look ridiculous."

"Why, you little troll!" she yelled. She got up and ran towards him, ready to slap him across the face. Before she could reach him, he disappeared.

"Do you treat all your house guests like this, or am I just lucky?" he said. He was behind her now, still sporting that smirk. Pushing her buttons was too much fun.

She lunged after him, but he disappeared and reappeared behind her, again. This charade continued on for nearly an hour until she was too tired from all the running around.

"Okay. No more. You win," she wheezed, gripping the wall.

He chuckled. He had never known anyone this persistent, before. Despite being an Earthling, she was quite Saiyan-like; she had the same fire in her eyes that all Saiyan women had. But even the most stubborn Saiyan would have backed down, in a fight like this. Of course, he wouldn't have, and clearly she wouldn't have either. There was something different about this woman: not a bad kind of different, either.

He looked out the tiny window above the sink. A frown grew on his face. Clearly, he let the time get away from him.

She regained her breath and noticed his more hardened expression. "What is it?"

"It's already dark."

She was about as shocked as he was. They must have been having more fun than they thought. "Do you need a place to stay?" He looked at her, with a confused expression. "Well, you've been here for a while. No point in making you leave this late. I could sleep in a chair, and you take the bed. I mean, it's all up to you, but you're more than welcome here."

He didn't respond right away. He couldn't find a reason to reject her offer, but he wasn't quite ready to accept it, either. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Consider it thanks for helping me, back there."

"I thought I already told you it wasn't a big deal."

"Maybe not to you; for me, anytime someone does something nice for you, you find a way to repay them."

Vegeta stood silently, for a moment. Bulma gave him no reason to distrust her, was being incredibly charitable towards him, and he was finding that he rather enjoyed her company. Plus, he wouldn't attract any attention out here. After all, who would go looking for him in a run-down shack with an Earthling girl? "Alright."

She smiled. "Great."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N:
> 
> Hello there, again!
> 
> Okay, I can guarantee that the next chapter won't come as soon as this one did. The intervals will most likely be a week to two weeks, depending on the chapter. I just got impatient and wanted to post the part where Vegeta and Bulma finally meet, lol.
> 
> Also, a couple warnings: 1) Characters will be different from their canon counterparts. As they grew up and were shaped by different environments, I thought that would be a given. 2) Situations are very divergent from canon, as you saw in the first chapter. This includes characters backstories and some lore. I know that gets on some people's nerves, so here's your preemptive warning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Fanfiction.net November 4th, 2016

Bulma woke up the next morning with the sun shining in her face. She squinted as she tried to sit up. Another day, another long shift at the repair shop. She shook her head to get herself awake, and slowly climbed out of bed.

She paused for a moment before she put her foot on the floor; she didn't fall asleep in her bed. She very clearly remembered falling asleep in the chair. As she looked around, her neck grew sore; it certainly felt like she'd been in the chair for a while. She guessed that she could have gotten here in the middle of the night, but she might have at least remembered that.

Her thoughts were interrupted by footsteps. Vegeta was putting on his white gloves as he was stepping out of the bathroom. "I was wondering if you planned on sleeping all day. At least don't have to pour a bucket of cold water on you, anymore."

Suddenly, she remembered everything, and buried her head in her hands. She let out a loud sigh. "Vegeta, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kick you out of bed. Go ahead and shout at me; I deserve it."

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about? You didn't kick me out."

"Then how did I wake up here?"

"I let you sleep there, idiot." She gawked at him. "What? You didn't look comfortable in that chair. I didn't want to hear you complain about it in the morning. I slept on the roof while you were down here."

"YOU SLEPT ON THE ROOF?!"

He flinched, covering his ears, slightly. "Gods, woman! You don't have to screech!"

"How was that even possible? Wouldn't you have trouble climbing up and down?"

He chuckled. "I forgot you were from Earth. Flight is one of the most basic skills taught to us, along with walking and talking."

It was then that Bulma noticed a brown tail wrap around his waist. She felt like smacking her head against the wall. "You're a Saiyan. Of course."

"For a genius, you can be quite an imbecile, woman."

After shooting him a glare, she sighed and walked over to the dresser. She grabbed a clean shirt and the first pair of pants her hand touched and quickly put them on, after slipping off her pajamas. Vegeta was taken aback by her slight lack of modesty, but turned away until she finished dressing.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Quarter to 10."

"DAMMIT!" She slipped on her shoes without putting on socks and started taking towards the door. Before she could make it out, Vegeta grabbed her firmly on the shoulder. "Let me go. Yesterday was fun, but I really have to go back to work."

"You seem to be in a hurry to go somewhere you hate being."

"Only because I could get into trouble if I don't. Please let go."

"What's one day of truancy going to cost you?"

"A lot, actually! Let me go, Vegeta."

He smirked as his tail unwound from his waist and wrapped around hers, instead. She yelped as the furry appendage tightened around her hips, making him chuckle.

"Let me go, you dwarf jerk!" She tried to punch him in the face, but he effortlessly dodged every blow she tried to make. "You're not being fair! Let me hit you!" He let out a loud laugh, in response. Getting frustrated, she tried to hit him with both fists at the same time, but he caught them without even trying. He lowered her arms down, not breaking eye contact. Bulma could feel her face begin to flush under his intense gaze.

"I looked over your schedule while you were asleep. You seem to have a desire to work yourself to death. I was always taught not to work myself to exhaustion; it isn't healthy for a warrior and especially not healthy for someone as weak as you. Now, allow me to ask again; what's one day of truancy going to cost you?"

She sighed, in resignation. The look on his face practically screamed 'I don't want to argue with you about this'. "Alright. I'll stay home another day."

His eyes lit up and the corner of his mouth twitched. He nodded and let go of her arms, removing his tail as well. He still wasn't sure why he felt concerned for this woman or why he felt protective of her. He decided to ignore it, for now; why question something that doesn't feel unpleasant or wrong? If Raditz or Nappa found out about this, they'd never let him hear the end of it.

* * *

Nappa entered the king's throne room. The king looked down at him, slightly impatient. "Do you have news of my son?"

"No, your majesty. I talked with all the soldiers who garrison the city, and almost none of them have seen any sign of him."

"Almost?"

"There was one; one of the men Frieza brought in. Apparently, Vegeta stepped in whenever he was getting too close with an unwilling girl. He scared him pretty bad."

The king rubbed his chin between his finger and thumb. "That doesn't sound much like my son, but alright. At least it sounds like he hasn't been causing trouble."

"Your majesty, can I speak freely?"

"Of course."

"I meant to talk with you about giving Vegeta a day outside of the palace. Just the other afternoon, he went on a rant about how much he hates being cooped up in here. I'm not saying that he should have run away: but I get why he did it. I say we give him until tomorrow. If he's not back by then, we'll search again. Just a couple of days away from all this stress and nonsense might make him a bit less moody."

The king thought, for a moment. Nappa was speaking reasonably. He knew that the stress of the suitors was getting to his son; perhaps some time outside of the palace would do him some good. "I agree with you. Tell your men to rest, for the day. However, if someone reports seeing him, tell them to come to me. I'll deal with my son personally, when the time comes. You're dismissed."

Nappa saluted, as he exited the throne room. He couldn't help but sigh in relief. At least King Vegeta was being understanding. He really didn't think Vegeta could handle being dragged back to the castle, like that. Maybe their relationship as father and son wasn't as broken as he thought.

* * *

Deep within the basement of the palace laid every single bit of literature in the planet. They were all backed-up digitally, but if one wanted the most accurate and reliable records, then one would have to look through the hard copies. Far within the bowels of the archives, Frieza sat in solitude, reading over every bit of information he could reach. He had one simple task; find someone to search the planet. He needed someone clever, someone resourceful, and (most importantly) someone who wouldn't be missed.

As he flipped through the pages, someone caught his attention. As he read over their information, a smirk curled on his lips. He committed every bit of their information to memory, and put away the file.

Once he reached the ground level of the palace, he began looking for his men. Luckily, one of his soldiers was standing not too far away.

The soldier quickly stood at attention, as Frieza approached him. "Sir!"

"Find Dodoria and have him report me immediately. Tell him to bring four men with him. There's a job I need him to do." He nodded, and marched away. The lizard chuckled to himself. He could hardly stand still from the anticipation.

Soon, the Dragon Ball would finally be his.

* * *

Bulma and Vegeta spent the entire day locked away in her shack. She sat at her desk and fixed some broken capsules. He loomed over her, and occasionally asked what something was. He knew Bulma was intelligent, but her knowledge of science and engineering rivaled even the best scientists at the palace. If he ever went back, perhaps he could convince his father to hire her. He definitely wouldn't mind seeing her, more often.

As for Bulma, she was the most relaxed she had been since she left Earth. Even far away from her home, Kami seemed to be watching over her. Someone like Vegeta was exactly what the doctor order. Despite his teasing, he respected her intelligence, and wasn't feigning interest just for a favor. He was also to the point with everything, not sugar coating anything. She loved her parents dearly, but she always felt like she was buttered up too much, as a kid. Vegeta wasn't like that; if he thought something was stupid, he'd flat out say so. Honesty was always something she really valued. Plus, she had to admit that he was very handsome. Even though she knew him for less than a day, she didn't want to be apart from him, again. Of course, she wouldn't say that out loud; he'd think she was being ridiculous.

"Your talents are being wasted here," he said.

"You talk like I'm here by choice. If I had it my way, I'd be on the next ship off of this planet."

He snorted. Bulma's situation was a lot like his: feeling absolutely trapped. At least he was trapped in luxury. She deserved better; they both did.

Then, an idea popped into his head.

"What's stopping us?"

She stopped what she was doing and turned around to face Vegeta. "What are you talking about?"

He shrugged. "Getting a pod isn't difficult. There are ones with room enough for two. We take it and just fly to wherever it takes us."

She gaped at him, feeling her cheeks getting warmer. "You… you can't be serious… We can't just… What about my debt?"

"Who cares? People leave with unpaid debt all the time. Besides, with your inventions, you could make enough money to pay it off in no time."

"But… you have family and friends and a life here. Why would you want to leave that?"

"Some will understand; I don't care about what anyone else would say, in the opposite. Besides, my life isn't worth that kind of sentimentality."

"Where would we even go?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter, to me. The universe is a big place, after all. Between the two of us, we can make it."

Bulma's head began to spin. This couldn't have been as simple as it sounded. There had to be a catch. Yet no matter what scenarios played out in her head, every single one of them ended with her freedom. It was so close in her grasp. She refused to believe that it was true.

She didn't respond for several moments, still deep in thought. The blank, wide-eyed expression on her face concerned Vegeta. He crouched down and snapped his fingers a few times, in her face. "Hey, you still in there?"

She flinched and looked back at him. She paused, trying to find the right way to phrase her next question. "You would really do that? You would really help me get off of this planet?"

Vegeta was taken aback by her question. He had mostly just suggested that on an impulse, but she was taking it seriously. He was close to telling her that, but the hopeful gleam in her bright blue eyes stopped him. He was planning on leaving the planet, eventually; what was one more passenger going to hurt?

"I would."

Her eyes grew very wide and she blinked several times. "Why?"

He didn't have a great answer for her, so he went with the obvious. "I'd need someone to fix the pod, if it broke. You're adequately versed in that field."

Nothing in his tone or expression indicated that he was lying: he truly wanted her to join him in his travels. Bulma still couldn't believe that this was as easy as it sounded, but she no longer cared. Freedom was within her grasp, thanks to a kind stranger.

"What do you say?"

A smile grew on her face and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears of joy. "Yes. Of course I will. Thank you so much."

Vegeta felt his chest clench. Her expression was filled with so much admiration and trust. Even if he didn't want to leave, he couldn't stand to go against her wishes, now. "We'll leave at dawn, tomorrow."

* * *

It was just after midnight. Bulma was asleep on the bed, while Vegeta was still awake, on the chair. It was nothing short of a miracle to get her to sleep, that evening. She was too excited to finally be leaving this prison. She had spent hours prattling on about sights she wanted to see throughout the galaxy. She didn't even care where they ended up; as long as she was with Vegeta, she knew she'd be safe and happy.

Vegeta, on the other hand, still felt a small bit of doubt in his stomach. He was uncomfortable with how she trusted him. Throughout his whole life, he had copious amounts of pressure put on him, whether it was to act a certain way or look a certain way; yet all of them seemed minuscule to the pressure he felt when it came to Bulma. She was so weak; if he breathed on her wrong, he could probably break her neck. There was no way she'd survive a day out in the wilderness of space, alone. He glanced over at her sleeping form. A feeling of protectiveness came over him as he watched her chest rise and fall. He briefly considered leaving her on some backwater planet while he went off to do whatever he wanted; the thought alone made him feel absolutely disgusted with himself. He couldn't betray her trust. He would keep her out of harm's way no matter what.

Vegeta's musings were suddenly interrupted. He felt a large ki coming towards the shack – five distinct powers. When he recognized who one of them belonged to, he immediately got up and donned his outer armor. Once he did so, he ran to Bulma and shook her lightly.

Bulma grimaced, and looked up at Vegeta with half-open eyes. "Vegeta…" she groaned. "What is it?"

"Get dressed. We're leaving right now."

Hearing the urgency in his voice, she didn't need to be told twice. She hopped out of bed and grabbed the plain black outfit she had lying out. "What's going on?"

"Some very strong people are coming towards here. I don't know what they want, but I'm not taking chances." He grabbed the case of capsules lying on the kitchen table. As soon as Bulma was dressed, he scooped her into his arms. "Stay quiet. We don't want to attract any more attention than we have to. The port isn't too far from here, but I'll have to go on foot. Just hang on and we'll be out of here soon. Understand?" She nodded.

Quietly, Vegeta slipped out the door, looking around. Keeping his steps light, he walked to the other side of the shack. The ki was coming from the opposite direction of the port, thankfully. Tightening his grip on Bulma, he began running. His father must have sent them after him. He wouldn't let himself get caught - for his sake and for Bulma's sake. There was no way she was going to get away easily if they found him with her. He tried to ignore how tense and scared she was, but it was getting difficult. As much as he wanted to comfort her, he had to focus on keeping his power down to avoid showing up on the scouters.

The ki was getting very close. Worried that they might have been found, he halted and hid in an alleyway, lowering his power to zero.

A loud dash rang throughout the empty streets and suddenly came to a sudden stop, as the five men landed on the ground.

"Alright, this is where that blip of power was. It couldn't have gotten far. Start looking."

"What do you think he wants with her, anyways?"

"I've learned to stop asking questions about that."

"She's just an Earthling. Aside from the looks, what else does she have?"

"Hey, maybe that's what he wants. I know I'd like a few rounds with her, myself."

"Will you idiots stop yapping? We have a job to do. Remember – Lord Frieza wanted her alive and in one piece."

Bulma froze. They were talking about her. Her eyes began to water, in fear. What did they want with her? What were they going to do once they had her? She clutched the shoulders of Vegeta's armor tighter.

Vegeta clenched his teeth. It was worse than he thought. He knew how sadistic Dodoria and his men were. Of all of the men Frieza hired, he was the worst: an absolute brute, with an unquenchable bloodlust. Whatever they wanted with Bulma, they certainly weren't going to do it gently. He didn't even want to think about what Frieza would do with her. And he wasn't strong enough to take on all five of them at once; especially if they had a few ki-restrictors on them. He had to get her out of there.

His grip on her tightened. "Hang on," he whispered.

One of the soldiers got a blip on his scouter. Without alerting the others, he went to investigate. Before he could even make it into the alleyway, he was blasted into oblivion. Hearing the explosion, the other men ran after him before a loud and bright ki burst from between the buildings and into the sky.

"Follow the trail!" With that order, Dodoria and his remaining men sped off after them.

Bulma held onto Vegeta for dear life, with her eyes closed tightly. The harsh winds blew her hair back, faster than any car she had driven. She tried to hold back her tears, but she was too overwhelmed. She just wanted to be off this planet so this nightmare would be over.

Vegeta landed a few feet from the entrance to the port, and took off running inside. Once he was far enough inside, he set Bulma down, and held her by her shoulders. "Run to Gate C, get in the unmarked pod, and set the coordinates for Planet Namek. The Namekians are peaceful and welcoming to outsiders. You should be there by the end of the week. I'll come for you as soon as I can."

Bulma gave him a tight hug, tears still rolling down her face. She wasn't ready to lose Vegeta, yet. "Promise me you'll make it," she whispered.

"I have no intentions not to. Now go."

Without thinking clearly, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and ran away. Vegeta froze as he watched her retreating figure. He lifted a hand to his cheek, now feeling very hot and dry.

The large ki brought him back to his senses. He masked his own and hid. He hoped that Bulma was far enough away that they didn't see or hear her.

Dodoria landed in front of the building, with his three underlings following swiftly. Even though their numbers were reduced, they were still too powerful to take on, at once.

One of the soldiers checked his scouter, but the results came up blank. "You sure this is where that power level went?"

"Are you questioning me?" Dodoria snapped.

"No! Of course not, Dodoria sir!"

"That's what I thought. If we find that high power level, we find the girl. Move out. And report every spike in power that you see." With a salute, the soldiers separated.

Amidst her small panic attack, Bulma managed to make it to the unmarked pod. She immediately jumped in. Unfortunately, all of the instructions were listed in Saiyago, which she could only read the basics of. Trying to keep herself calm, she breathed in deeply and looked through the destination list until she finally found Namek. She continued clicking through menus and options until it appeared that she was ready for launch. She hit the final button, and prepared for the ascent. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out. She prayed to Kami, Yemma, and whoever else that might have been listening to her for Vegeta to make it out, safely.

However, before the pod could leave, it was recalled. Her breathing quickened, as the pod door was forced open by someone's bare hands. She was face to face with Dodoria. She couldn't stop the tears from coming back.

He laughed. "I knew you would have tried to escape." He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her down the terminal.

"Please!" she begged, uselessly hitting his arm. "Let me go!"

"I always love it when they beg. Sorry, girly, but someone paid a hefty price for your presence."

She continued hitting and begging, turning into a sobbing mess. When she didn't calm down when he ordered, Dodoria slapped her hard across the face. She nearly blacked out for a few seconds. Bulma had a few nasty run-ins with thugs on Earth, due to her family's wealth and publicity, but it was nothing she couldn't fend off easily; this was a completely different ballpark. She wept quietly, as she was dragged along.

Dodoria entered the lobby, grateful that the Earth girl's screeching stopped. His men looked at him with excited eyes. However, there was one less than he remembered. "What are you so happy about?"

"You remember that high power level we tracked here, right?"

"Yeah. And?"

The missing soldier came out, dragging a battered Vegeta behind him, wearing a ki-restraining neck brace. Bulma's heart sank to see her friend like that. She felt her eyes water, again, but gulped and blinked to keep the tears at bay. It was her fault that he was like this.

Dodoria laughed and roughly tossed Bulma in the arms of one of his soldiers. He walked over to Vegeta. "Well, if it ain't the missing prince. Good day, your highness."

Bulma gasped. The one person she ever connected with on this planet and the one person who ever showed her kindness was the prince. If her heart wasn't already broken at seeing him so beaten, it certainly was now.

"This is a bit unlike you. Risking your hide to protect a piece of Earthling trash? Careful, Vegeta; I'm starting to think you're getting soft."

Vegeta looked up at Bulma, seeing the fear and sadness in her eyes; he growled when he saw the bruise forming on her cheek. He swore to himself that he'd protect her, and he failed. He could feel his pride and honor being torn to shreds inside of him. He exhaled to keep his anger at bay; if he lashed out, they could threaten or hurt her in retaliation.

"You have me. My father will give you plenty for bringing me to the palace. Let the woman go, and I'll go with you willingly."

Dodoria scoffed. "Sorry, prince. My orders come from Lord Frieza. If you want her so desperately, you'll have to take it up with him."

"Sir, what should we do with him?" asked one of the soldiers.

"Leave him. Have Raspberry or someone come after him. Let's get out of here."

Bulma was dragged out of the port, too tired to fight against them, anymore. As she was carried over one of her captor's shoulders, her brain went through every worst case scenario of what this Frieza character wanted with her. She wanted to cry and scream, but she had nothing left in her to let out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N:
> 
> Yay, another update!
> 
> First off, thank you to those who have been favoriting and leaving comments. I would have posted this story regardless of how much attention it got, but knowing that there's even one person reading one of my stories is absolutely insane. I have a couple other ideas for stories that I might do as side-projects to this, so be on the look out for those in the next couple months. Thanksgiving break in the US is in a couple weeks and we have Christmas after that, so hopefully I'll have more time to work on stuff.
> 
> This is probably one of my favorite chapters I've written, yet. I know things are kind of moving fast, but after the next two chapters, the pace does slow down a little bit, after this. I have nothing against slower-paced fics, but I don't like using more time than I have to, with my stories. I try to abide by the Law of Conservation of Detail as much as I can.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Fanfiction.net November 11th, 2016

Bulma was tossed roughly into a cell by one of Dodoria's men. "Don't get any bright ideas about escaping; we won't be this kind to you a second time," Dodoria said. "And your prince won't be here to save you, either." With that, he slammed the door shut.

She curled up into a ball, not even taking the time to study her surroundings. Never in her life had she felt so vulnerable. The worst case scenarios with Frieza flashed through her head, again, causing her to cringe. She regretted never taking any money with her to Planet Vegeta. She regretted taking that shady job offering. She regretted going to college to become an engineer. She regretted letting her father talk her into learning about science. She regretted ever stepping foot outside of her own home. She just wanted to disappear from the universe and never have to deal with it ever again.

She stopped sobbing for a moment and tried to calm herself down. She couldn't give up, yet. She didn't even know what this Frieza guy wanted. There might still be hope in getting out alive. After that, she'd leave Planet Vegeta and never return.

But the thought of leaving Vegeta behind filled her with more sorrow than her kidnapping did.

* * *

Frieza was sitting in his study when there was a knock at the door. "Yes?"

Dodoria entered, with a smug grin on his face. "She's in the cell."

The lizard laughed, clasping his hands. He rose and walked with Dodoria down the corridor. "Excellent! I knew I could count on you, Dodoria. Did you run into any problems?"

"We had one casualty."

"Is that so? The girl has more fight in her than I thought."

"Not really. She was accompanied, and you won't believe who it was."

He halted and looked at Dodoria, intrigued. "By whom?"

"By Vegeta! He seemed very fond of her. He even offered his return in exchange for her freedom. I always knew that boy was getting soft."

Frieza thought for a moment. "Alright, Dodoria. You're dismissed. You and your team will be compensated by the end of the week." Dodoria bowed his head and walked off. Frieza continued his way towards the cell, believing he found the perfect way to execute his plan. This was going to be far too easy.

* * *

The cell door opened with a loud click, making Bulma jump. Finally, she was face to face with Frieza. She gasped when his thin red eyes met with her wide blue ones.

"Well, you certainly caused quite a bit of trouble for my men. I hope you were worth the effort, Bulma."

She shivered. "H-H-How do you know my name? Who are you?"

"My name is Frieza. I'm the advisor to the king. I'll cut to the chase and tell you what you're going to do for me."

"You seem so confident."

Frieza laughed. "The records were right; you are a funny little one. A being infinitely more powerful than you is standing before you, and you crack a joke. I quite like your attitude, Bulma."

"You said you were going to get to your point."

"Oh, right. Apologies. You've heard the legend of the Dragon Balls, haven't you?" She nodded. "Namekian artifacts made that can grant any wish. Well, I've heard rumors that there is a single Dragon Ball with the power of seven lying on a planet not that far from here."

"And this is where I come in..."

"Precisely. You're even cleverer than I imagined!" he said, feigning enthusiasm.

"You can count me out. I'm not in the mood for a wild goose chase."

"I was afraid you'd say that. I apologize for Dodoria's actions; I simply can't control his brutality. I have a few incentives to sweeten the pot a little." Bulma raised an eyebrow to this.

"You will be well compensated for this. Even a fraction of what I'll pay you will be more than enough to pay back your debt. You might even be richer than the king, by the end of things."

She still appeared disinterested.

"You've heard of the golden rule, haven't you, Bulma? You'd go from a worthless Earthling to a lady overnight. Imagine sticking it to all those men and women who spit on you and called you Earthling trash."

Her expression didn't even flinch. Frieza was growing impatient, but he knew exactly which card to play.

"Of course, there is the matter of your relationship with Vegeta…"

Bulma's expression began to soften. A wave of guilt and sorrow began to rush over her. Frieza smirked, knowing he struck a nerve.

"You know, he's never been so attached to a female like he is with you. I've watched him grow up; I can vouch for that. But, sadly, if you're impoverished, you won't have any chance to be with him. If there's one thing that breaks my heart, it's seeing young couples torn apart by their circumstances."

She didn't reply. She put her hand on her chest, keeping her head down.

"I'll leave you alone to think over it, if I must." Frieza began to exit the cell until his steps were interrupted.

"Which way to this planet of yours?" she asked, firmly.

Frieza let out an inaudible chuckle, before turning around. He extended his hand to her. "Come. We have much to discuss, along the way."

Bracing herself, she took hold of his hand and let him lead her down the dark corridors of the dungeon.

* * *

Vegeta was found the next morning by Raditz, after he overheard Dodoria bragging about it. As soon as he was back at the palace, he was put in a healing tank. He didn't have any severe injuries, but the collar weakened him significantly. The doctors didn't want to risk the king's anger if his son approached him at less than his best. Once he was let out of the pod, and the doctor gave him the all clear, he sped out, seeking out a familiar ki.

He found Zarbon flirting with a Hera woman in the courtyard. Zarbon was one of Frieza's highest ranking officers, but he always seemed more interested in serving the royal family over serving Cold's son. A lot of what Vegeta knew about etiquette and politics came from him. As soon as he saw Vegeta, he dismissed her with a kiss on the hand.

"Your highness, it's good to see you well, again," Zarbon said, sincerely. "Your father wished to speak with you."

"I'll deal with him later. Where is Frieza?"

Zarbon was surprised. "I don't know. I believe he might have left while you were in the healing tank."

"What?! Where did he say he was going?!"

"He didn't. Not even Dodoria and his men know."

"Did you see him leave?!"

"I did not. May I ask why you're so concerned?"

Vegeta growled, clenching his fists. "As soon as he returns, alert me. It's personal business."

Seeing how tense he was, Zarbon decided not to press on any further. "Will do, your highness."

He nodded curtly and stormed off. It was no secret that he hated the overgrown lizard who served his father. Since Frieza began to take advantage of his powers as the advisor, Vegeta's relationship with his father was never quite the same. He didn't know what Frieza had been doing to him, but he had an inkling suspicion that he was manipulating him. Everything about his affable and calm nature struck him as cold and calculated. He always seemed to be buying his time, waiting to strike against the crown.

And now that bastard had Bulma: the woman he swore to protect. Vegeta didn't care about what any of Frieza's schemes could have been; she didn't deserve to be brought into them.

* * *

Bulma sat in one of the quarters of the small ship, twiddling her thumbs. She knew coming with Frieza would bring her nothing but trouble. Everything about him unsettled her. However, she had no choice but to trust him; it wasn't like she had many other options.

The door of her room slid open, revealing Frieza on the other side. "We're about to land on Planet Polaris. Bring a coat," he commanded. She nodded. Frieza smiled and walked up to her, staring into her wide, fear-stricken eyes. "It seems like you're still afraid of me. Do not worry, my dear; you will not leave this planet harmed." He pushed back her blue locks, making her shiver. "When the time comes, you'll be reunited with your prince." With that, he exited the room the way he entered. Bulma let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. She knew that she couldn't let the fear get to her. The sooner she did what he asked, the sooner she could go home. She grabbed a coat from the small wardrobe, and slowly made her way out of the room. Every step filled her with dread; it was as if she was walking to her own funeral.

Planet Polaris was completely covered in ice, with heavy winds and copious amounts of snow. Aside from the coat, Bulma wasn't appropriately dressed for the harsh winter weather, shivering slightly. Frieza, on the other hand, just wore his normal armor, not even bothering to cover his legs and feet. He wasn't the least bit affected by the cold. She had a rough time keeping up with him, with her feet constantly falling through deep snow. She hoped this Dragon Ball was going to be worth all of the trouble.

Frieza stopped when he came upon a small mound of snow. Using his foot, he brushed away most of it, revealing a small plaque. From what he knew of the legends, the last time this Dragon Ball was used, the owner placed a copper plaque on the planet where he left it. It was supposed to be engraved with a clue as to where the Dragon Ball was precisely located. The plaque in from of him was clearly old, as it had already turned green, but it precisely matched the description.

Frieza turned back to Bulma and pointed to the plaque. "Read this. This is your clue to the Dragon Ball's location. Find it and come back to the ship immediately." Before giving her a chance to ask questions, he flew off.

Bulma let out an exasperated sigh and leaned down to examine the plaque. It appeared to be some sort of treasure map. It marked a plateau, with, the x lying just underneath it by a frozen pond. It couldn't have been vaguer. It might have taken her days to find the place it was located. Though, she had a suspicion that Frieza wouldn't be very happy, if that were the case.

She looked inside of her pockets, trying to find something of use. Sure enough, in one of her pockets, there was one capsule. She didn't even remember where the others were; she probably accidentally left them back in the shack. Keeping her fingers crossed, she pressed down on the button and threw it on the ground.

From the capsule, a pink motorbike appeared. She silently thanked Kami, hopped on the bike, and began looking for some sign of the plateau she was looking for. Polaris wasn't a particularly flat planet, with hills and mountains everywhere, so it could have been anywhere. A GPS or some sort of Dragon Ball locator would have made things a bit easier.

Two hours passed, and the search wasn't looking anymore fruitful. She felt like she was going in complete circles. Not to mention, the cold and fatigue was starting to set in. While checking another plateau, her legs gave out and she fell to the ground. She didn't know what would be worse: staying here and freezing to death, or going back to Frieza empty handed.

"It's hopeless," she yelled. "I'll never find this stupid Dragon Ball!"

She absently began throwing snow around, trying to entertain herself until she felt ready to leave, again. She stopped when her hand felt something smooth and round. She kept digging through the snow until she saw an orange ball with one star on it. She jumped up in the air, completely filled with joy. Quickly, she jumped back on her motorbike and rode back to the ship.

As soon as she made it back, she capsulated the bike again and stood in front of the ship with her hands on her hips.

"Hey! I got your Dragon Ball! I hope you appreciate what a delicate flower like me went through, for you! This place is cold and I'm not exactly dressed for this kind of weather! Also, those clues you made me read were really helpful! Narrowed the locations down to at least a hundred and fifty ones! Take your Dragon Ball and let's get off this stupid planet, you creep!"

As soon as Bulma finished her rant, Frieza appeared in front of her. In the momentary frustration, she forgot who exactly she was dealing with.

Frieza looked down at the Dragon Ball in her hand, and snatched it from her. The next thing she knew, she was being held up by her neck. It wasn't enough to cut off her windpipe, but it was enough to hurt quite a bit. She tried to claw at his grip, but to no avail.

"Hey! What are you doing?!"

"Now, now, do calm down. I promised that you wouldn't leave this planet injured." His hand tightened enough to start cutting off her air. "However, I didn't say anything about leaving this planet alive." He moved the Dragon Ball in his other hand around, observing how it glistened in the light.

"What are you going to do with that?" she asked, beginning to feel lightheaded.

"I suppose there's no point in keeping it from you. I plan on becoming the most powerful emperor in the universe. First, I'll wish to become the ruler of Planet Vegeta. Then, I'll wish to become the strongest being in the universe. Finally, to keep my throne from being taken away from me, I'll wish for eternal life. Once that's done, nothing will stop me from my conquests. I hear that Earth has dragon balls, as well. Perhaps I'll pay your family a visit, while I'm there."

"You're… you're a monster…"

He chuckled. "I think this conversation is over. Thank you very much for helping me. Don't worry about being lonely in the next world; Vegeta will be joining you very soon."

Bulma weakly struggled for a few more seconds before going completely limp. Frieza tossed her unconscious body to the ground, letting the falling snow pile on top of her.

Frieza laughed to himself, caressing the dragon ball as he returned to his ship. "At last! The Dragon Ball is finally mine! Soon, I will be the most powerful being in the universe!" He set it on the dashboard above the ship controls. He began the maintenance check for the ship, barely being able to stand still from the anticipation. However, his tail accidentally knocked the ball out of place, sending it sliding down. It hit the ground with a crash, and shattered into many pieces.

As soon as Frieza saw the broken Dragon Ball on the ground, his rage began to boil. According to the legends, the Dragon Balls were practically indestructible; even if they weren't, a simple fall to the ground shouldn't shatter it. He knelt down to examine one of the pieces – it was made of glass. He held the piece in his hand and crushed it into dust.

"Damn it…" he hissed between his teeth.

"Damn it!" He fired a beam at the remaining pieces, turning the false dragon ball into a pile of ash.

"DAMN IT!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N:
> 
> First things first, thank you to everyone who has been favoriting and following this story. I'm more than glad that you're enjoying it as much as I have been enjoying writing it. Another thank you to those who have been leaving their comments and feedback. I do read the reviews and I'll take any criticism that gets thrown my way. Secondly, after next week's chapter, there won't be a new update the following week. Next chapter will mark the end of Act 1 and I want to get things finalized for Act 2 and start with Act 3 before I start posting stuff for it. You won't be without new content, however. I have a couple one-shots and quickies that I plan on posting to fill the gap. In the meantime, you can follow me over on my Twitter (batcreditcard) and my Tumblr (obiwanskenobi) for more of my dumb shenanigans.
> 
> Post Script Fun Fact: this scene was heavily inspired by a song from the Broadway production of Aladdin. In it, Jafar talks Aladdin into helping him get the lamp through raising his status and getting with Jasmine. It's called "Diamond in the Rough", if you want to listen to it. Thought I would share that, as I'm not too sure how well known the Broadway show is among most of the readers.
> 
> Since posting this story, I have seen the Aladdin Broadway show, and it is fantastic.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Fanfiction.net November 18th, 2016.

Frieza returned to the palace absolutely livid, muttering the whole way. Power and control were almost in his grasp. He knew he should have gone after the Dragon Ball, himself, instead of relying on a pathetic Earthling woman. There was at least one silver lining to the situation; she wouldn't be leaving that planet alive; she'd sooner starve or freeze to death. At least her passing would be a slow and torturous one; just the way he preferred all his victims to go.

He entered the palace, still fuming with rage. He wasn't in the mood to talk to any of his underlings. He simply wanted to retire to his study without anymore interruptions.

"Frieza!"

The lizard rolled his eyes and feigned affability. He turned around to see the prince, looking very angered. "Ah, Prince Vegeta! How may I be of service to you?"

"Oh, cut the crap! What did you do with her?" he demanded.

Frieza was taken aback by the prince's question. Dodoria told him that Vegeta seemed to care for the Earthling girl, but he didn't expect him to be this upset by it. He mentally chuckled, knowing exactly what buttons to push. "Your father put me in charge of keeping peace in the city. Unfortunately, Bulma was a criminal."

He could see Vegeta tense and clench his fists when he called her by name. "What was her crime?"

"Sneaking off the planet without repaying a debt, attempted stealing of a pod, truancy from the workplace, and, of course, kidnapping the prince."

"I was the one who prompted her to do all those things. And she didn't kidnap me; I ran away."

Frieza feigned remorse. "Oh. Oh dear. How frightfully upsetting. If only I had known…" He began pacing away from Vegeta, before turning over his shoulder. "You see, Bulma's sentence was already carried out…"

"What sentence?"

"Death. By beheading."

Vegeta's eyes widened, and he gaped at Frieza. As the information sunk in, he took a few steps back, leaning against a wall. Any thoughts he had running in his head came to a screeching halt. Without even realizing it, he slowly slid down the wall and onto the floor.

Frieza walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I am exceedingly sorry, your highness. If there's anything I can do to make up for it, let me know."

The prince glared back at him. "Rot in Hell, you coward," he spat. Then, he stormed out of the room.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Frieza laughed, to himself. Messing with the king's whiny brat brought him too much amusement. At the very least, the bombshell he dropped would keep Vegeta distracted, while he continued with his schemes. Frieza wasn't idiotic enough not to come up with a back-up in case the Dragon Ball plan fell through. Still, it had been a long day and there was still time to prepare; so, Frieza retired, for the evening.

* * *

Bulma moaned quietly as she slowly regained consciousness. She held her head, and winced. She got onto her knees and began looking around; she couldn't recall what had happened to her, a few hours prior. She held her coat closer to her, in a desperate effort to try and keep warm, while looking at her surroundings.

Then, it hit her.

"I'm… trapped. Oh no! I'm trapped!" Tears started falling out of her eyes and she grabbed her hair, ready to pull it out. "I'm stuck on a stupid ice planet for the rest of my natural life!" She slumped over and sobbed. She hit the ground with her fists repeatedly. "How could I have been so dumb and trust that reptilian creep?! It's not fair!"

Bulma continued taking out her anger on the snowy ground and the plaque next to her, digging and pounding on it repeatedly. After making a well-sized hole, she curled into a ball and continued to sob. "This is how it ends; freezing and rotting away on a barren planet. I won't even leave a pretty corpse."

While staring at the ground, something caught her attention; a small piece of orange was hidden beneath the plaque. Using whatever strength she could muster, she slowly peeled off the plaque and pushed it away. Her jaw dropped; sitting in the dirt was another Dragon Ball. It was almost identical to the one she found earlier. However, instead of one star, there were eight. Slowly, she began wiping away the dirt, using the palm of her hand.

The ball began to glow a bright orange and omit a strange sound. Suddenly, a bright light flashed throughout the sky and the ball became scorching hot. Bulma dropped the dragon ball and backed up, still on the ground. The light slowly began to fade away, with a shadowy figure sitting in the middle of it. The figure gradually came into the light – a man with green skin, pointed ears, a turban, and a long cape blowing in the wind, legs and arms crossed and eyes closed. Whoever he was, he didn't seem to notice her presence. She gawked at him for several minutes, not comprehending what was going on.

"You going to talk or sit there with your mouth open for a little while longer?" the man asked.

Bulma flinched. Whoever this guy was, he sure was intimidating.

He groaned and set his feet down on the snow. He turned around to face the cowering Earthling. "Let's get introductions out of the way. What's your name?"

"B-Bulma. My name is Bulma," she said, flustered.

He nodded, grunting. "You're the one who rubbed that dragon ball, correct?"

"Y-yes! I did!"

"If you keep stuttering like that, we're going to be here for a long while."

Bulma gulped. "Sorry! Yes, I rubbed the dragon ball."

"I'm going to guess you don't know what that means." She nodded. "Figures. I'm here to grant you any three wishes you want, as long as they're within my power to do so."

She felt like smacking herself. She completely forgot all that Frieza told her before she passed out. "What do you mean 'within your power'?"

"There are limitations, as with the other sets of dragon balls. I can't kill anyone. I can't force someone to be one way or another against their will. I can bring one person back to life per wish, but only if they've been dead for less than a year. I can't grant the same wish to the same person twice. And don't even think about wishing for more wishes. Anything else is fair game."

"Anything?!"

"Don't push it. I've been known to broaden my limitations if someone rubs me the wrong way."

"Sorry, sir!" The man grunted, in response. Bulma got up and began pacing. "Three wishes, huh? Well, none of them are gonna be of much use to me if I'm stuck on this planet. Hey, what should I call you?"

"Piccolo."

Bulma nodded, and stood with her legs spread and her hands on her hips. "Alright, Piccolo! I wish for you to take us off of this planet and onto Planet Vegeta!"

Piccolo resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and nodded. Within an instant, they were off Planet Polaris for good.

* * *

Nappa stood outside of the training room, carrying some food and water. Vegeta had been locked away in there for twenty hours straight. He always pushed himself when it came to getting stronger, but even for him, this was complete overkill. In all his years of looking over him, Nappa knew that he always overworked himself when he was stressed. No one else batted an eye at it, so he investigated, for himself. Twenty hours of training without a break for food, water, or rest was unhealthy for any Saiyan, even for one as strong as Vegeta.

Nappa overrode the program and looked into the room Vegeta was collapsed on all fours, breathing heavily. His spandex was in tatters, and sweat poured from his face and neck.

He sighed; he looked even worse than he thought he'd be. As soon as he began to approach him with the nutriments, Vegeta planked and continued with his push-ups, not even bothering to look up.

"What do you want, Nappa?" he asked, hoarsely.

Nappa knelt down near him. "Vegeta, you've been going non-stop for way too long. You know better than this."

"That's none of your concern. If you're just going to lecture to me about this, then leave."

As Vegeta persisted, his breathing was becoming more uneven and shallow. His face was burning hot and his legs and arm shook, with every rep.

Nappa put the food and water down on the ground, and crossed his arms. "Vegeta, that's enough for today. It's time you rest."

Vegeta glared up at him, and suddenly lunched out to punch him. However, Nappa easily caught his fist.

Now that Nappa could see his face, he saw how truly awful Vegeta looked. His face was red, completely drenched in sweat, and there were dark bags under his eyes. His dark eyes were glossed over and red, as if he was just crying. The drying trails of tears on his cheeks didn't do much to make him look better. The last time Nappa had seen a Saiyan in this much anguish was when the king's mate died. What could have brought this on for someone as emotionally reserved as Vegeta?

"See? You should have been able to hit me, but you're too drained to do even that. Your training ends now. Eat something and rest."

After a long moment of hesitation, Vegeta sighed and did as he was told. He grabbed the plate of food and began scarfing it down. The food wasn't enough to fill him, but with how much he was training, Nappa wasn't sure if his stomach could handle a normal portion in one sitting.

He grabbed the large glass of water and chugged it down, quickly, before continuing with his food. Nappa's intervention was the first bit of relief Vegeta had all day; it was enough to distract him from his crippling guilt.

"Vegeta, what's going on?" He paused in his eating and looked up. "Look, I know you don't like talking about stuff like this."

"And yet here you are, still trying to get me to talk…"

"Let me talk for a minute." The uncharacteristic sternness in Nappa's voice was enough to shut him up. "Like I said, I know you don't like talking about personal stuff. I get it. But, Vegeta, there are times when you have to open up to someone. It doesn't even have to be to me, but you can't keep all that torment bottled up."

"Who said I kept it bottled up?"

"Trying to beat it out of yourself isn't going to help. Trust me."

Vegeta looked up at him in shock – how did he know that was what he was trying to do?

"We all go through it. During the war, I had a bad bought of it. Your own father went through it, when your mother passed. You're not a failure of a Saiyan just for feeling – it's how you handle it that matters."

They sat in silence for several moments. Vegeta looked down at his fists. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Nappa," he took a long paused, still finding the courage to speak. "When I was gone in the city, something happened.

"I… there was this… girl."

He proceeded to tell Nappa everything that happened, while he was away. Nappa never asked him questions, and stayed silent during his entire recap. Since Frieza told him of Bulma's apparent death, he was racked with guilt and sorrow. If he had been stronger, he could have protected her. The fatigue he felt was the least he deserved for breaking his promise to her.

Nappa couldn't believe everything he had been through in the past days. The Earthling he spoke of must have been an amazing woman, for him to be so anguished over her wrongful execution. If it were him, he might have been upset, too. No wonder he was training so hard – it was fueled by pure guilt. Vegeta was the last person he'd expect to be affected by this so deeply.

Vegeta breathed in and out, once he finished recapping everything. His fists were shaking and his eyes were heavy with tears that he refused to let fall.

"Vegeta," Nappa said. "Have you thought to tell your father about this?"

He scoffed. "What good would that do? Like he would punish Frieza."

He understood his hesitance – like Vegeta, Nappa was also weary of the king's advisor (though not to the same extreme as the prince). "I still think you should talk to him. At the very least, it might make sure something like this doesn't happen again." When Vegeta didn't respond, he patted him on the shoulder and stood up. "Just think about it, at least." With those words, he left him alone, in the training room.

Vegeta thought over what Nappa told him. Despite how strained his relationship with the old man was, his father was still the most powerful man on the planet. Telling him was possibly the only way for justice to be served. At least Bulma wouldn't have died for nothing.

He stood up and made his way towards his father's study. After a long moment of hesitation, he knocked on the door.

King Vegeta looked up from a desk. "You may enter," he said.

The king was surprised to see his son entering his office. He was equally shocked by how dreadful he looked. He had been busy with negotiations, unaware of Vegeta's excessive training.

Vegeta approached his father's desk, pulled up a chair and sat down in front of it. "Father," he said. "There's something we need to talk about."

The king's expression softened and he put away the paperwork he was doing. He looked his son in the eyes and waved his hand towards him. "You have the floor."

* * *

Within an instant, Bulma and Piccolo reappeared in an abandoned field. She looked around; the red sky and soil made it clear that she was back on Planet Vegeta.

"We're back! Woohoo!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down. "Suck on that, Frieza! I'm back in the game!"

Piccolo winced at her screaming, which was hard on his sensitive ears. "Will you shut up?!" he snapped.

Bulma stopped, startled by his sudden outburst. "Sorry, Piccolo."

"Whatever. What's your next wish?"

She ran her fingers through her hair while pacing. "I don't know. You know that moment when you get asked what your favorite food is and suddenly you forget everything you've ever eaten? That's basically how I feel right now."

"If you have no use for me, I'll go back into the dragon ball. Summon me when you come up with something." With that, he disappeared.

"HEY!" She picked up the dragon ball and knocked on it several times. "I'm not through with you, yet! Get back out here!" Nothing happened. In frustration, she threw the dragon ball a few feet away. "Fine! Just say in there, you big green jerk! I don't even care!" She crossed her arms and pouted.

"You always this emotional?" She jumped and turned around. Piccolo was standing behind her.

"Hey, you don't know what I went through, today! I almost died! And got arrested! And separated from the only real friend I've had in years!" She gasped. "Oh no! Vegeta! Those guys left him at the port! What if he's not okay? This is all my fault!" She fell on the ground and sobbed.

Piccolo shook his head. It was quite astonishing to him how one person could be so frantic. "Get a hold of yourself, kid. If this Vegeta is who I think he is, then you have nothing to get in hysterics about."

Bulma looked up at him. "How do you know?"

"If you're talking about the prince, he's fine. This planet would be in more of a panic, if he wasn't."

She sighed, in relief. "Thank Kami for that…"

Piccolo grimaced slightly, but quickly regained his composure. "Why do you care?" Her face flushed in response, as she turned away. "You're in love with him, aren't you? Sorry to tell you, but I can't make him love you back."

"I wasn't going to ask for that! He's just the one person on this damn planet I'm able to have a nice conversation with, and the one person who seems to care about me. All I want is a fair chance with him."

"That, I might be able to help you with." She looked up at him, questionably. "Interracial marriages are legal on this planet, but not for Saiyan elites. On top of that, members of the royal family can only marry other royalty. If you want to be with this guy so badly, you'd have to be a Saiyan princess. That wish is within my power."

Bulma's face lit up. "You're not joking?! Why are you even telling me this?"

"I've been granting wishes for well over a hundred years. You might not believe this, but literally every single person who has ever sought the dragon ball out used it for malevolent purposes; always for power and control over innocent people. You're the first person I've served that doesn't want to use my powers for ill. When you get to be in a situation like that, any bit of hope is a boon and you learn to appreciate it as much as you can."

"I… I didn't know that…"

"Don't start pitying me now, kid. Will that be your wish or not?"

Bulma stood up, gaining confidence. "Alright. Piccolo, I wish for you to make me a Saiyan princess!"

"This will hurt." With that warning, Piccolo nodded, granting her second wish.

Bulma felt an incredible amount of pain in her lower back. She gasped and fell to the ground on her hands and knees, breathing heavily. It was as if something was trying to rip the skin of her back open. She gripped the loose soil, and screamed in pain. The ground began to shake, and a small crater formed around her. With one long agonizing scream, the pain stopped.

Knees shaking, she slowly got on her feet, again. Her entire body was tingling, slightly. She looked down at her hands; she felt so different, yet she couldn't quite describe how. She brought a hand up to her head – her hair felt thicker and coarser than it was, before. When she inspected a clump of strands, she discovered that it was now a very dark blue. She felt something furry touch the back of her leg and yelped. Sitting in the small of her back was a brown tail.

Her eyes lit up and a large smile grew on her face. In complete ecstasy, she jumped into the air and twirled. Tears of joy rolled down her cheeks, and she felt as light as a feather. She didn't even realize that she wasn't on the ground, anymore. "This is amazing!" Even Piccolo couldn't help but smirk at her bliss. Eventually, she let herself float to the ground on her back. "Everything just seems to come so naturally to me. I did all that without breaking a sweat."

"Saiyans aren't the only ones knowledgeable in battle. I gave you the basics of what I know. Everything else, you'll have to figure out on your own. Given how fast you picked up on flight, I don't see that as too much of an issue."

"What was that tingling I was feeling?"

"It was ki. You already had a fair amount, for an Earthling; not enough to pass as an elite Saiyan, though. Your body feels that way because it isn't used to that kind of power. Most get it gradually, but I figured you didn't have that kind of time."

Bulma ran up to Piccolo and hugged him tightly around the waist, while her tail waved frantically, like a dog's. "Thank you, Piccolo! Thank you so much!" Unsure of how to handle this, he awkwardly patted the top of her head. She took a step back. "So, now what?"

"You'll go to the palace in two days. Until then, you need to prepare in every way you can. I suggest coming up with some sort of alibi for your appearance – 'Bulma' isn't a particularly Saiyan name, after all. I can't teach you much about fighting, in this short amount of time, but I'll help you get the hang of the basics."

"You're being awfully generous with this wish…"

"Don't push your luck, kid."

Bulma spent the next two days working harder than she ever thought she could. She was still far from the most powerful Saiyan on the planet, but she certainly couldn't pass for an Earthling, anymore. She took Piccolo's advice and came up with a new identity for her Saiyan-self. Of course, this was just to fool the king and his men; she knew Vegeta would figure it out pretty quickly. By the end of the second day, she was tired and sore; yet, she could barely sleep in anticipation for the next day.

The Earthling girl that everyone knew wasn't there anymore; and it was something that she was perfectly content with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N:
> 
> Hey, we've reached the end of Act One! Huzzah!
> 
> So, as previously stated, there won't be a new chapter next week. I'm taking the time during Thanksgiving break to finalize some stuff in Act Two and to get started on Act Three. I'm someone who likes to have a lot of work done ahead of time, so that's why you're getting the short hiatus. I have a couple other stories I might post to keep you guys sated, in the meanwhile, so be on the lookout for those.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net November 25th, 2016

Vegeta told the king all that had happened, during his absence. He kept a level composure throughout the entire thing – he got all his emotions out while talking to Nappa. He never got angry when speaking of Frieza and he kept the details about Bulma to a minimum. The king was very proud of his son, for being able to negotiate in a dignified manner. The following morning, he called Frieza in his study.

"Frieza, this is an absolute outrage," the king said. "Without even hearing all of the evidence, you sentence a girl to death? That is completely unacceptable. I entrusted you to administer justice fairly, but now I can see that was a mistake."

Frieza sat in the chair in front of his desk, planning on smiling and nodding his way through this meeting. "It was an honest mistake, your majesty. It won't happen, again."

"Of course it won't because you will not be the sole judge and jury of this court, anymore. From now on, you are to discuss all sentencing of prisoners with me and the council –  _before_  they are beheaded."

"You are most forgiving, your majesty. Thank you."

"I assure you, if anything like this happens again, you'll be thrown out of this palace in an instant."

Frieza kept his affable demeanor, but he was filled with complete rage. Now, of all times, the monkey prince had to run off to his father about his problems. He had hoped that he would accidentally kill himself, during his non-stop training. Having him around made Frieza's plans much more difficult. He should have just let him and the Earth girl leave. Sometimes, he hated his lack of foresight.

"I just hope we'll be able to put this big mess behind us," Frieza said.

"That will be up to you, Frieza, but yes. That will be all. You're dismissed."

Frieza nodded and stood up, again. Before he could leave, a Saiyan came running into the throne room.

The Saiyan stood at attention and bowed. "King Vegeta, we have a visitor."

The king looked at the messenger, confused. He wasn't expecting any visitors. "Who is it?"

"A member of another Saiyan royal family. She requested your presence."

The king thought this was odd. He knew Saiyan settlements existed on other planets, so it was possible that there could be a monarchy there; however, he thought that he had met all of the other Saiyan kings, already. "Well, take me to her."

The messenger bowed and escorted him to the throne room. Frieza was intrigued by this, and decided to follow, keeping himself hidden from the king's sight.

The sound of a trumpet fanfare was played in the air.

"King Vegeta of Planet Vegeta: presenting Princess Chou of the kingdom of Laitue!" Two guards slowly opened the large door from both sides. In the doorway, a feminine figure stood, with a tail softly swaying behind her. When she came into the light, even the guards couldn't help but gawk at her. Planet Vegeta wasn't short on beautiful Saiyan women, but everything about her physique and looks was pure perfection. When she glared at them, they went back to standing at attention.

"Your majesty," the princess said while gracefully walking down the aisle. "I have journeyed from afar to seek your son's hand. It's an honor to finally meet you." She bowed in front of his throne.

The king was overjoyed. "No, it's an honor to have you! Forgive the unpreparedness; I wasn't expecting any visitors, today."

She laughed. "It's no problem at all. I did show up a little out of nowhere."

While she introduced herself to the king, Frieza stood in the corner of the room, staring at her. He wasn't expecting another suitor to show up this quickly. There was something odd and familiar about this one, but he couldn't place his finger on it. Of course, if Vegeta's history of dealing with suitors repeated itself, he wouldn't have to worry about her getting in the way.

"If there's anything we can do for you, princess, please let us know."

"Well… I'd like to meet your son."

"I'll go speak to him, right away." With that, the king swiftly left the throne room.

Bulma let out a quiet sigh of relief; at least the king seemed to like her. She only had to continue the charade until she was alone with Vegeta. Then, she could go back to being Bulma. Being overly proper was slowly killing her.

She turned to face her guard. She twirled a piece of her hair around her finger. "How am I doing?"

He nodded. "Fine, but you can tone down the regal flare – Saiyans don't care about those formalities, as long as you show them respect."

She sighed. "Good. Thanks, Piccolo."

"Keep your tail around your waist. It's still a weak point."

Bulma looked behind her and her tail wrapped around her, like a belt. "Right. Not quite used to this, yet."

"Remember: don't let your guard down around this place. There are a lot of people looking to exploit your weaknesses."

Frieza found this very intriguing. Why would a Saiyan princess, who is trained from childhood to approach royalty, be worried about keeping up appearances? Wouldn't that come naturally, to her? Then again, he'd never heard of her kingdom, so that might not be so commonplace, there. Somehow, Frieza knew that she wasn't telling the whole truth. She might turn out to be a bit more trouble than he thought.

* * *

King Vegeta found his son training, as usual. He was unsure of how he was going to introduce him to the new suitor. He liked her a lot, already, and didn't want to see her get run out of the palace so quickly. In addition, he and his son made a lot of progress in their relationship just the other day – he didn't want to waste it.

When the king opened the door to the training room, his son was standing right in front of him.

"What do you want, father?" Vegeta asked, in a monotone voice.

"Come to the throne room, at once. There's someone who wishes to see you."

Vegeta rolled his eyes – he heard that phrase countless times and knew exactly what I meant. He was not in the mood for this. "No."

The king was shocked by his son's bluntness. "No?"

"Do I have to repeat myself, father?"

"Do not use that tone with me. You didn't even let me tell you who it was."

"Let me guess – some brainless Saiyan girl you picked out from the elite you think would be just perfect for me."

"I didn't pick her this time, Vegeta. She came of her own accord."

He laughed. "So a brainless Saiyan girl who just wants to be a queen. Yes, completely different."

The king huffed out a sigh; he was sure that might make him change his mind. "Vegeta, you're being completely unfair. You haven't even met her, yet."

"Do tell, father: what makes this one so different than all the others? You know her just about as well as I do."

"If you would just meet her before making judgments on he-"

Vegeta interrupted him. "No, father, I'm done. I'm not dealing with anymore of those worthless suitors." He started walking away.

The king roughly grabbed the back of his armor and pulled him back. His patience with his son was finally worn thin. "Have you forgotten who I am? Not only am I your father, but I am also your king. You will do as I say. Now, get your butt into that throne room right now."

Vegeta threw his father's hand off of him and glared at him with angry eyes. His ki was rising, as he continued talking. "This is exactly it! This is exactly why I ran off! You never once consider how I feel about anything! It's always for your sake or for the sake of some outdated law! And when I don't want to, you order me around like I'm a slave! Well, I refuse to be talked down to like this. If you want me to start taking my duties as a prince and future king seriously, then stop treating me like I'm a child! I will have no part in this, anymore, until you do." He stormed off before his father could say anything else.

Vegeta only said one more thing, from down the hall. "And you can tell all of that to her, as well!"

King Vegeta ran his hands through his hair and groaned. He was willing to cooperate with his son, but not when he acted like this. He decided not to go after him; perhaps some time to calm down would be best, for him.

* * *

When the king returned, Bulma immediately knew something had gone wrong. The good mood he was in seemed to have disappeared. He even hesitated, when he was about to talk.

"My son… isn't in the mood for visitors, right now. If you wish to speak to him, you still can, but I would give him some time to calm down, first. You are certainly welcome to stay here as long as you'd like, however. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask one of our servants."

Bulma felt her heart break. The king was simply trying to be polite and not outright say that Vegeta refused to see her. This wasn't going nearly as well as she thought it would. She wasn't going to give up, yet, though. She came too far to drop everything at the first rejection.

She bowed to the king. "Thank you, your majesty. I'll try speaking with him, later."

The king waved his hand and one of the guards came forward. "Please, escort Princess Chou to the guest wing."

The guard bowed. "Yes, King Vegeta. Follow me, your highness." The guard led Bulma and Piccolo out of the throne room.

Frieza was still standing silently, in the corner. He still couldn't help but notice something off about the princess. It didn't really matter to him if Vegeta got a suitor or not; in the end, they'd all suffer the same fate under his rule. However, if she really was hiding something she could potentially endanger his plan. He planned on going through with it by the end of the week – if he found anything suspicious about her, he'd get rid of her by then. Until then, he'd let her be; killing her would be a waste of time.

* * *

Bulma sat in her room, with her hands on her head. The initial shock and sadness passed; now, she was just completely lost. She had experience in approaching boys she liked. It was another thing to approach one that wanted nothing to do with her. Clearly, she didn't think this plan through very well. There was still a chance, though, and that was enough to keep her going. The only question now was how she was going to do it.

"Sitting around and moping isn't going to make Vegeta like you anymore," Piccolo said, breaking the silence.

She lowered her hands and shrugged. "What else should I do? He won't even let me see him! We haven't even looked at each other, and he has a bad impression of me! What am I supposed to do?"

He groaned. "Kid, just talk to him. You're making this a lot harder than it has to be. What's the worst that could happen?"

Bulma sighed. She knew Piccolo was right. She just couldn't shake her nerves over something going wrong. If she said the wrong thing once, he could have her kicked out of the palace. Then, this whole wish would have been for nothing.

There was a knock at the door. She got up and walked to it, pressing on a button to open it. A soldier was standing on the other side, at attention.

"King Vegeta requested that you join him for dinner, tonight."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Why, I would love to. Give me a moment, please."

The guard nodded and she shut the door. She ran to a mirror, adjusting her hair, cape, and armor. She stood with her hands on her hips and her feet apart. The outfit made her feel like a superhero. By Earth standards, she might as well have been one.

"Hey, Piccolo," she said. He looked over at her. "Wanna come with?"

Piccolo was definitely surprised by this. None of his previous masters ever invited him to anything. He figured that he had nothing better to do. "Sure."

She smiled at him, and went back to the door, where the soldier was still waiting. "Hey, do you think the king will mind if I bring my guard, too?"

"I don't think he will. I'll have to go ahead and alert the kitchen staff of the extra mouth, though. If you go down the staircase for two floors, the dining hall will be to your right. If you get lost, some others will point you in the right direction."

"Great! Thank you."

The soldier nodded, spun on his heel, and marched off. Once he was far enough, Bulma and Piccolo (now donned in his disguise from earlier) left the guest wing. She was so incredibly nervous. She thought she made a good first impression on the king, and was hoping that she didn't screw it up. Part of the reason she asked Piccolo to join her was to alleviate some of that stress; having someone she trusted with her would be plenty.

Over the past two days of preparation, Bulma got over her fear of Piccolo. He wasn't cold and unfeeling like she originally thought he was; he was just distant. She could tell that he had been through a lot in his life – more than she could ever imagine. She thought that she had problems, but she wasn't stuck serving horrible and selfish people against her will. If she could ever find a way to repay him for all the good he did for her, she would. For now, she hoped he understood how grateful she was for everything.

After a five minute walk, they reached the dining hall. With a bit of hesitation, Bulma opened the door with a button, and they stepped in. The room was huge and empty – almost as big as a stadium. The room was only lit by torches hanging on the wall. The walls and floors were colored a dark burgundy and a large table sat in the middle of the room.

"Ah, princess," said the king, who had just entered, as well. "I'm glad you could make it.

Bulma turned to him, and bowed. "Thank you for inviting me, your majesty. I hope you don't mind, but I brought someone, with me." She gestured to Piccolo, who was standing behind her. He bowed his head, slightly.

King Vegeta shook his head. "No, I don't mind at all. You're the guard she was with earlier, weren't you? What's your name?"

Piccolo could tell that the king was going to be prodding, and it was already making him uncomfortable. Still, he answered his question. "Majunior." Bulma made a mental note to remember it.

"Well, take a seat. Food will be out in a moment."

Bulma leaned over to Piccolo. She was confused about his pseudonym. "Why Majunior," she whispered.

"It's an old nickname. I'd rather not talk about it." That shut her up.

The table sat for six. King Vegeta sat at the end in the largest chair; Bulma picked a seat close to the king's right, but with one chair inbetween them; Piccolo chose the chair directly to her right. The king attempted to make conversation, as they waited for the food to arrive, and Bulma answered them as best as she could. Luckily, it was just basic information about her life and kingdom. If they went too personal, she wouldn't know how to answer them.

About ten minutes later, servants came out carrying trays and trays of food. Bulma swore that there was enough here to feed two armies. Somehow, they managed to fit every plate onto the table. Despite three years of living on Planet Vegeta, she hadn't seen any of these kinds of foods before. Most of them were different kinds of meats, slathered in different sauces and gravies. There were even some bowls of fruits – ones that could only grow on desert planets like this one. She didn't even know where to start. It all looked delicious.

The door opened again, snapping her out of her awe.

"Glad you finally came to join us, son. We have guests, tonight," the king said.

Bulma immediately stood up from her seat and turned around. Vegeta was walking towards the table with his arms crossed and looking down. The sight of him nearly took her breath away. She always thought he was handsome, but he looked absolutely beautiful in his princely get-up. His armor was a similar design to the king's, minus the cape and medallion.

"It's an honor to finally meet you, Prince Vegeta."

Vegeta stopped dead in his tracks. That voice: it was the same one he heard in his head for days. He looked up at the woman in front of him. He almost gasped: she even had her eyes. It couldn't have been Bulma, though; the woman in front of him had dark blue hair and a tail. Still, the resemblance was uncanny.

"Vegeta, meet Princess Chou. She's the one I told you about."

Almost immediately, Vegeta started glaring at her. A likeness didn't matter if she was only here for that. He scoffed and sat down next to his father. Bulma concealed her hurt over his reaction and went back to where she was sitting, before.

The dinner went by at a snail's pace. King Vegeta attempted to make conversation to lighten the mood, but Vegeta was not having it. Had it not been for the food, he would have already left. After a while, everyone just stopped trying to have a conversation and focused on the meal. Bulma and Piccolo would occasionally glance at each other – neither of them enjoyed being there.

When the main course was finished, the king tried to converse, again. "So, princess, is this your first time on Planet Vegeta?"

Bulma shook her head. "Oh no, I've visited many times. I like it a lot here."

The king nodded. "Good. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. Do you have any interests?"

"Well, I like science. I love inventing and fixing up old stuff. It's one of my biggest passions."

Vegeta snorted, to himself. She glared at him. "Is there something funny about what I said, your highness?"

He looked up at her, slightly surprised. He didn't quite like the way she called him 'your highness'. "Just a little surprising for someone of your stature to be a scientist."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

The king groaned. The dinner was going bad enough, as is. "Vegeta, please don't…"

"Are you saying that just because I'm a princess?!"

"Your words, not mine."

Bulma couldn't believe what she was hearing. Vegeta was such a gentleman to her, when they met in the city. Why was he acting so rude to her, now? Maybe he was just teasing her, again. She figured two could play at this game. "You're one to talk about stature, you dwarf."

Vegeta nearly choked on his food. There it was again – Bulma called him that, too. This couldn't be a coincidence. The parallels were far too clear. If this was all just a trick, he was not going to take it lightly.

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings, little prince? Can you not take what you can dish out?"

He scoffed, wiping the extra sauce dripping from his mouth. "Oh yes, I'm sooo insulted. Most in your place would think twice before saying something like that."

"Why start claiming your title, now?"

Now, Vegeta was starting to get mad. How could she have known about that? And what gave her the right to call him out on it? He sat in a stunned silence for several moments before huffing and going back to his food.

Bulma stifled a laugh. Now she understood why he heckled her so much – it was plain fun. She even forgot about all her anxiety over making a good impression on him. Piccolo found the display childish, but it was also the most entertaining thing he'd seen in years. Clearly, Bulma wasn't as shallow as he initially thought she was. At least she was willing to call him out on his crap.

The group sat in silence, for the rest of the meal, before Bulma and Piccolo excused themselves and went back to the guest wing.

Vegeta stayed in his seat, thinking to himself. This princess was clearly not an air-head, like all the other suitors were. She was insufferable, to be sure, but she had a lot of spunk and confidence. None of them ever insulted him like that, before. If he didn't kill her first, he might start to like her. Still, that might have been because she looked like Bulma. He couldn't let that cloud his judgment.

He'd let her stay, for now. However, he had plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N:
> 
> So I guess I was just kidding about that hiatus thing. I got all of the work on this story that I want to get done, so why delay the new chapter? Nothing much to say this week, but the main plot kind of kicks it into gear, this week.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net December 1, 2016

Bulma was walking around the palace, that afternoon. She figured that she might as well get to know her way around the place, if she was going to be staying there. Piccolo wasn't with her, this time, but she had the Dragon Ball tucked in her armor, in case of an emergency.

While she was aimlessly wandering the halls, she thought back on the night, prior. She couldn't believe that she had the nerve to say those things to Vegeta. She really hoped that this didn't blow her chances with him. If she wasn't thrown out of the palace that morning, then maybe he wasn't very upset over it. Hopefully, she could find time to be alone with him, soon. Any longer, and she might be too deep in the act to tell him the truth.

She suddenly felt her stomach rumble. Normally, skipping breakfast wouldn't have a big effect on her appetite, but now she was starving. Then again, Saiyans did have big stomachs, so this shouldn't have been a huge surprise. So, she made her way down to the dining hall.

The gigantic room was filled with Saiyans of all sizes and physiques. They were either scarfing down food, arm wrestling each other, or just chatting with their peers. In the corner of the room, a group of twenty non-Saiyan aliens were sitting and hanging out with each other. Bulma did her best to avoid bothering others, while working in the city – this was the first time she saw any camaraderie among the other people of Planet Vegeta. The atmosphere was akin to a college dining hall, back on Earth. It certainly beat the awkward dinner she had, the night before.

Bulma walked up to the counter to order some food. Aside from a few long glances and whispers, none of the others paid much mind to her; fine by her.

A tall Saiyan came up and stood next to her, while she was waiting for her meal. He leaned his arm on a nearby wall. "Hey," he said.

She glanced at him and nearly rolled her eyes. Men desperate for girlfriends were one of the few things from Earth that she didn't miss. "Hello."

"I don't think I've seen your face around here, before. Who are you?"

"Chou. Please leave me alone."

His face lit up, with mirth. "So you're the little princess I've heard so much about! You really gave the prince an earful, didn't you?"

Now, he had her full attention. Was that why some of them were whispering about her? She looked up at him with wide eyes. "Come again?"

He laughed. "Don't worry, your highness. I don't blame you. None of us do, really. Vegeta can be a bit of a prick. He deserves a little bit of tough love, every now and then."

She snorted. "Bit of an understatement, really."

One of the cooks brought out a big bowl of stew and a plate of fruit, and placed it on a tray. Bulma silently thanked him, and went off to find a seat. The tray wobbled in her hands, and she had trouble keeping it in balance. Everything almost fell to the floor, when she simply shifted her hands. Luckily, the Saiyan she just spoke with grabbed the tilted end of the tray and held it there until she could get a better grip on it.

"Thanks, uh… what's your name?"

He smirked at her. "Raditz, your highness. And no thanks needed." He winked at her and she sheepishly averted her gaze. She couldn't let his charm get to her, while she was still trying to win over Vegeta.

Bulma sat her food down at a small, empty table, and plopped down in front of her tray. Raditz pulled up another chair and sat in front of her. While she was looking away, he snatched one of her fruit, and took a bite out of it. The two ate in silence for several minutes.

"So, what do you think of the prince?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I've known him for several years. He can be a bit of a stick in the mud, but he's a decent guy underneath all that stoicism."

"You're friends with him? He didn't strike me as the friend type."

"He isn't. He has a bit of trouble… trusting people. I swear he thinks that everyone is out to get him. Probably comes with his position of power." Raditz snorted. "He barely tolerated me for a long time because of that. I feel sorry for him, sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

He held up his hand. "Hold that thought." He waved his hand in the air. "Yo! Over here!"

Nappa heard Raditz yelling, and went over to his table. He pulled up a chair and sat adjacent to him. Since Raditz was around Vegeta a lot, Nappa got to know him pretty well. He might have gone as far to say that he considered him a good friend. "Hey. What's up?"

"Princess, this is General Nappa. Nappa, meet Princess Chou."

Nappa's face lit up just as Raditz's did, before. "Pleasure to finally meet you, your highness. I've heard a lot about you."

Bulma wanted to hide her face, after hearing that. "Please don't remind me. I already know I screwed up."

"Screwed up? You talked to him better than he talks to most people. I love Vegeta like he's my own, but he needs to be brought down a peg every now and again."

Raditz raised his hand. "I second that."

"Besides, I think he likes it when people are blunt with him. He never likes getting kissed up to."

Nappa's words gave her a bit of hope. Maybe she hadn't lost her chance, after all. "So, do you think I have a shot?"

He shrugged "First, answer this: why do you want to be with Vegeta?"

Bulma hesitated. How could she answer this without giving away her identity? "I… it's because… I understand what he's going through. When I heard about what he was dealing with, with all the suitors... I know, I must sound bonkers, to you, but I felt that connection with him before we even met. I don't expect him to be on his knees begging for me to be his mate by the end of the night. However… I just hope I can prove to him that I want to make him truly happy. I think he deserves at least that."

Raditz and Nappa looked at each other. Both of them understood why Vegeta was so against suitors – they were all just after the title, and he preferred a deeper connection. They suspected that there was something special about this girl, and it looked like they were right. She was being genuine – she really just wanted to be with him.

"Don't stress out over this, Princess," Nappa said. "Tell Vegeta what you want and he'll come around."

"Be patient, though," Raditz said. "It may take him a while."

Bulma nodded, and rose from her seat. "You're right. I'm just gonna go and talk to him. But what should I say?"

"Be honest with him. Don't sugar coat it."

"Alright. Thank you. I'll see you around!" Bulma walked out of the cafeteria, with newly found confidence.

Raditz grabbed whatever food she left and handed some of it to Nappa. "What do you think?"

"I like her. She's got a good head on her shoulders."

"You think she's 'the one'?"

He snorted. "Not if Vegeta's got anything to say about it."

* * *

Bulma made it down to the training room, and the door was locked. To her right, she saw a small window, so she stood on her toes to peek inside. If he wasn't quite done, she would come back, later.

What she saw took her breath away. Vegeta was in the midst of a session with twenty training bots – they looked identical to the ones she worked on a year ago. They were pretty strong on their own, but twenty of them could easily take down a single Saiyan. However, Vegeta was not like the average Saiyan warrior. He deflected their attacks effortlessly, reducing the bots to a pile of scrap metal. His techniques were perfectly timed and paced. He moved with so much grace that it looked like a dance, at times. This was Vegeta in his true form – and she found herself falling for him all over again.

His training outfit was worn and torn, leaving little of his herculean physique to the imagination. He stood with perfect posture, his back straight and his shoulders squared. His eyes were just as beautiful as she remembered them, staring right back at her-

Bulma quickly ducked under the window and sat against the wall. She was so entranced that she didn't even realize she was staring. She wanted to hide, from the embarrassment. She hadn't felt like this since she was a teenager. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn't help it.

The door slid open and Vegeta came walking out, with a towel hanging off his neck. He stopped right before he turned a corner and looked back at her. His tail fell from around his waist and swung lazily from the small of his back. He smirked and she swore that he winked at her before turning the corner, out of sight. It was enough to make her heart nearly jump out of her chest. She couldn't even move for several moments.

She quickly remembered what she originally came here to do, and started running after him. "Vegeta, wait!"

He stopped walking and turned around, with a scowl on his face.

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened, last night. I feel like you and I got off on the wrong foot. I shouldn't have blown up at you, like that. So, I think we should just let bygones be bygones and start this whole thing over. Sound good?"

He didn't respond, continuing to stare at her.

"How about I start, okay?" Bulma stuck out her hand. "Hi, I'm Chou. It's nice to meet you."

He still didn't reply.

She sighed. "Look, Vegeta, I don't want to argue with you and I don't want us to be at each other's throats all the time. If my comments went too far, I'm sorry. I'm willing to compromise with you, and leave all the crap behind us."

Vegeta crossed his arms. "What are you on about?"

Bulma swallowed her pride; she had to be direct. "Please, Vegeta. Just… just give me a chance. I know you've had trouble with suitors before, but I can show you that I'm not like them, if you'd only let me."

She waited for his answer, shifting her feet and drumming her hands on her legs. He pondered silently for several moments until he looked her in the eyes once more. "Meet me in the courtyard at midnight. Don't be late." Before she could confirm, he walked away.

Bulma didn't know what to think of this. It seemed that Vegeta was willing to work something out with her, but he was so vague about it. Who knew what he had prepared? Still, this was a chance for her to impress him, and she was going to take it. She just hoped she didn't screw it up.

* * *

The rest of the day flew by quickly. Bulma stood in front of a vanity, adjusting her hair and primping with whatever she could find. Saiyans didn't value physical appearance as much as Earthlings did, so there was very little, in terms of make-up and hair products. She did find some face paints and worked with those. She wished she had her capsules with her – there was probably something in them she could use.

She glanced at the clock – she still had fifteen minutes before she had to be down in the courtyard. She dug through the bedside table, pulled out the Dragon Ball, and rubbed it twice. Once again, a bright light shined, and once it cleared, Piccolo was there.

"What do you want," he asked. He didn't particularly enjoy having his meditation interrupted.

"How do I look?" She stood with her hands on her hips and her legs apart.

"You seriously summoned me just to ask that?"

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I have a thing with Vegeta, tonight. I really want to impress him."

"Saiyans could care less about how much paint you put on your face. If you want me to be honest, you look like a gaudy mess."

Bulma groaned, turned back to the mirror, and started rubbing the paint off. She really wanted everything to be perfect, tonight. If she screwed something up, she wouldn't know what to do with herself.

She brought her hands to her forehead and slumped on the vanity. "What am I doing? How am I supposed to do this?"

"You're still making this harder than it has to be."

She laughed. "Please. Tell me the easy way."

"Tell him the truth. You told me you weren't going to put on an act, in front of him, and you're trying to do just that."

"How?! He doesn't even recognize me!"

He groaned. "I'm not your life coach. You got yourself into this mess – you find your way out."

She sighed and laid her head down. Piccolo figured this conversation was over, and went back into the Dragon Ball. He'd let her deal with everything.

Bulma glanced at the clock and nearly had a heart attack. "Crap!" She stood up, grabbed the Dragon Ball, and threw it in the bedside drawer. She took off running as fast as she could down the palace hallways. Luckily, the corridors were empty.

She finally reached the palace courtyard. She looked at the clock – she still had a minute to spare. It was the most agonizingly slow minute she'd ever experienced in her whole life. She started pacing in a circle, thinking on what she was going to say. Piccolo was right – she had to be honest with him. She hoped he believed her. She swore that she saw a hint of recognition in his eyes, when he saw her at the dinner. She was really regretting not thinking her plan through very well.

She felt someone flare their ki behind her. She turned around and saw Vegeta standing there with his arms crossed.

"You didn't strike me as being punctual," he said. He walked until he was standing in front of her, at arms distance.

Bulma decided that now was as good of a time as any. "Vegeta, there's something I need to tell you-"

He held up his hand to stop her. "There's something we must do, first."

She raised her eyebrow. "What?"

"You want to prove that you're not like the others? Show me in battle. I refuse to take a mate who can't match me."

Bulma nearly fell over, from that request. She might have been stronger than she was, as an Earthling, but she wasn't nearly ready enough to fight someone like Vegeta. There was no way she could keep up with him.

"What's the matter? Scared? Afraid of a little challenge? If that's the case, then you're a pitiful excuse for a Saiyan."

Now, she was pissed. Wanting to shut him up, she took a fighting stance – feet apart, knees bent, arms bent, and hands in fists at her side. He smirked at her and took his fighting stance.

Vegeta swiftly lunged out first, and Bulma only barely managed to dodge him. She attempted an uppercut, but it didn't connect. She continued to try and hit him, but he blocked her every time. No matter where she threw her hands, she couldn't hit him once.

In his blocking, she noticed that he was focused on her hands and arms. Thinking he was distracted, she kicked at his legs. However, he quickly regained his focus, and jumped up in time. She ducked, just missing his horizontal strike. She swung her leg around to kick him in the head, but he quickly blocked it. Taking the opening, Vegeta landed a few good punches in her stomach. Bulma shot a ki-blast to distract him and buy her a brief moment to jump away and recover.

Before she could regain her breath, she was hit in the back of her neck. At this point, Vegeta was moving faster than she could keep up with. Bulma put a lot more into that ki-blast than she thought she did, and could only barely manage to dodge and block his incoming punches. She was beginning to feel fatigued, even though their fight had been going on for only a few minutes.

Vegeta flew above her, and fired an orange ki-blast towards where she stood. She managed to dodge it, but the blast singed the ends of her hair. The next thing she knew, he caught her in a full nelson. She moved, to desperately break free from his hold, but couldn't.

"I can sense that you're holding back. A Saiyan warrior never holds back, no matter the enemy."

She continued to struggle. "Well, I'm not a Saiyan like you, Vegeta," she said, between her teeth. "Now, let me go!"

He chuckled. "You're pathetic. Even a low class would have been able to get out of this hold. Do you really think you'll be able to stand against someone trying to assault you or kill you? They're all over this court, and you won't be able to do a thing about them. Perhaps I should kill you now, and save them the trouble."

She froze. "You… you wouldn't. You're bluffing."

His grip on one of her arms tightened, while his other lowered to her stomach, and a rising heat began to burn through her armor. She could feel his breath against her ear. "I never bluff, Princess."

The next thing he knew, he was slammed into a wall. The princess was glaring daggers at him and growling. Her ki was practically radiating off of her. She put her hands together above her head. The palm of her hand began to glow, as small sparks flew from the light.

"MASENKO, HA!" she screamed, as she pushed her hands forward, firing a bright yellow ki-blast. Vegeta barely managed to hold the attack, pushing against it, and disintegrating it, with his own energy.

Vegeta stood there, stunned. She had a lot more power than he thought. That energy blast was enough to singe his gloves, leaving the palms of his hands exposed. It clearly wasn't wise to threaten her.

He regained his composure, and crossed his arms. He walked up to her, but she flinched backwards, still guarded. At least she was learning.

"Well done. You actually have some power hidden in that frail body of yours. It just took a bit of motivation to get it out."

He saw her slap coming, but took it, without protest; he would let her get her frustrations out.

"What the hell?!" she yelled. "How could you do that to a person, Vegeta?! You threatened to kill me!"

"I only did it so you would take this fight seriously."

"And I should just forget about it just because it wasn't serious? I was so scared that I was going to die right then and there!"

"You weren't going to die, idiot."

"You expect me to believe that?! You said it yourself: you never bluff. I bet that you would have actually killed me, had I not fought back."

He looked back at her. He could see her eyes welling up, with tears. He didn't realize how much he had scared her. This was meant just to gauge her fighting prowess. Did she really think he would stoop down to something like that?

She sniffed, loudly. "If you didn't want me here that badly, you should have just said so. I can take insults; I can't take something like that. I get it, now. I'm sorry that I wasted your time, and mine. I'll be out of your way by tomorrow night."

She left the courtyard and went back into the palace. Even as she got further, he could hear her desperately trying not to cry. A ping of guilt filled his gut. Even he couldn't find a way to defend his own actions. For the first time in his life, he felt that he went too far. The look in her eyes was enough to hit his shielded heart. Every part of him was telling him to run after her and apologize, but he was too stubborn to do even that.

He blasted a statue in the courtyard, sending the birds nearby flying away. He ran his hand through his hair, and huffed out a sigh. Why did he even do that do her? Was it because she looked like Bulma? He thought that he was getting over her, and now there was a reminder of her waltzing around the palace. But that was no excuse – she didn't deserve to be compared with a ghost.

Finally, he stormed back into the palace. He was tired of feeling sorry with himself, for one night. He needed to get some sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net December 9, 2016

Vegeta was beyond irritated. For the entire morning, he had tried to get a hold of the princess. He had put his pride aside to try and reach a compromise with her. But no matter who he sent, she wouldn't even leave her room. Gods, she was such a weakling. Then again, had he not pulled the stunt he did, she'd be just as spry as the days, before.

He hadn't even slept, the night before. He tried to blame her for this, but he really knew that it was his fault. He couldn't justify his actions, no matter what excuses he tried.

It was all because she looked like Bulma. There was no other explanation. If she didn't have such an uncanny resemblance to her, he wouldn't have pushed her so far. No matter how much he tried to say that he was over her, he knew it wasn't true. Even the night before, he had woken up, hearing her screams and pleas.

He thought that making it up to her might make the nightmares stop. But she didn't even want to come out of her room. He was close to marching in there and dragging her out. He doubted that would make anything better.

Women were such an enigma.

* * *

Bulma didn't have the energy or motivation to get up, the next morning. She never even left the guest wing. She had cried herself to sleep, the night before, and was still lying in bed when the afternoon began. What did she do wrong? Why was Vegeta being so mean to her? He wouldn't even give her a chance to prove herself to him – and when he did, it was all to see how she reacted to a cruel prank.

She rolled onto her back and raised a hand to her forehead. She was wasting her time. She still had feelings for Vegeta, and a part of her heart might always belong to him, but he wasn't the man she thought he was. He had acted like such a gentleman towards her, before, but now he acted like she was a demon spawn. Maybe they could have gotten past it, but she didn't think that it was worth the trouble, anymore. She should have just wished herself home as soon as she got the Dragon Ball. Looking how she did now, she wasn't even sure she could do that.

Bulma was completely lost. With no one else to turn to, she grabbed the Dragon Ball, from inside the bedside table, and rubbed it.

"Alright, how'd the date go?" Piccolo asked, without even looking at her. When he didn't get a response, he groaned, and turned around. "Look, I don't have time for this nonsense, so unless you've got a wish that I can grant, I'm going ba-"

He immediately stopped, when he saw how defeated she looked. This wasn't even her normal bratty frustration. Her eyes had bags, her face looked puffy, and her hair was disheveled. He never would have thought that someone that cheery and lively could ever look so crushed. It was kind of disheartening.

"Kid… you alright?"

"Piccolo," she said, her voice nearly cracking. "Be honest – am I wasting my time with this whole princess wish?"

He was surprised. Bulma sounded like she was ready to give up. She was so determined and so sure that she was going to win Vegeta over, before. Her drive about the situation was one of the things he respected her for.

"What brought this on?"

She sighed. "Last night, I met Vegeta in the courtyard. He just wanted to spar with me, and test my strength. I thought it was gonna be like what you did with me – normal training and all that. But then he caught me in a hold and… he said he was going to kill me right then and there. He even put his hand on my stomach, like he was going to blast a hole right through me. I was so… so scared that I was going to die, and I just flipped. And then, he just said it was to get me to take the fight seriously, and he acted like it was nothing."

Her shoulders were shaking and her breath was hitching in her throat. She was trying so hard not to break down, again. Piccolo already thought she was a weakling – she didn't want to look even more pathetic in his eyes.

Piccolo didn't comment on it. For once, he completely understood why she was so upset. His thoughts and feelings towards Bulma were complicated – he wouldn't even say that he liked her – but this was just low. There were a lot of ways he would manipulate a person, but death threats weren't one of them.

"Am… am I overreacting? Is there something wrong with me? Is this just normal behavior, for Saiyans?"

"The wish only changed your appearance. You're still an Earthling, at heart. You haven't forgotten that the Saiyans are a race that lives on battle and fighting, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's just… when we met, Vegeta was such a nice guy. I'm not trying to act any different with him now, yet he's just so mean to me. I know this is my problem, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do, now."

"Alright. Answer this: do you want to be with Vegeta or not?"

"I… I just… I don't know…"

He sighed. He said he was going to let her deal with this on her own, and now he was consoling her. He must have been losing his mind. "Look, kid. This can go one of two ways – you can stay here and see where this all goes, or you can leave and never look back. Just know that if you give up after hitting one roadblock, you'll always be wondering about what ifs."

After a long pause of silence, Bulma nodded, grabbed the Dragon Ball, and slowly got out of bed. "Thank you, Piccolo. You didn't have to do this."

"I know. I only did it to save me some whining and crying, later on."

She smiled at him. "It still means a lot to me. Thank you."

He nodded, and went back into the Dragon Ball. She stuck it in a pouch, and hid it in her armor. She glanced out the window – it was already night. Good: the less people she had to confront, the better.

She left her room, and walked through the dark and empty corridors. As she got closer to the exit, she got more and more nervous. What would they think of her, running away in the middle of the night? Would they forget about her? For everyone's sake, she hoped they did.

Bulma reached the foyer, and walked up to the door. Slowly, she reached out to push the button beside the door.

"Leaving so soon?"

Bulma froze, and then sighed. She turned around and saw Vegeta standing on the other side of the room.

"I told you I'd be out of your stupid hair by tonight – I'm just living up to expectations."

He narrowed his eyes at the quick insult. He began to stride towards her. "You're not even going to say goodbye. I thought you were less cowardly than that."

"I thought you would be thrilled – then you wouldn't have to see me, again."

"Don't put words into my mouth. Besides, my father would have preferred to show you out – it makes him look good."

"Why did you even come here? I'm giving you the space you wanted, and now you're the one seeking me out. What's going on, Vegeta?"

He stopped right in front of her, and waited until he had her full attention. "I'm only going to say this once: I regret my behavior, last night. I shouldn't have pushed you so far.

"You are infuriating, irritating, and insufferable… but I would never hurt you."

She sighed. "Vegeta… I forgive you, but I don't think I can just forget about something like that. How do I know you won't try something like that again, when I piss you off? I can handle threats just fine, but not when they come from someone you're supposed to trust. You made it clear to me, and I know when I'm not wanted. I'm sorry I wasted your time. I hope you still find someone who can make you happy. Maybe I'll be lucky and find someone, too."

Before she could reach for the door, he gently grabbed her wrist. He looked down. He had never been good with words, and didn't know the right thing to say. He decided to be blunt.

"I don't want you to leave, woman. I wish to make up for what I've done."

Bulma was stunned into silence. After all of that, he still wanted her to stay. What could have brought this on? She might not have known Vegeta that long, but she doubted that he would be so open about his wants.

"I don't want to continue this pointless quarrel. I like verbal spars; not petty, emotional ones. What I did was wrong, and I hope to, as you said, 'start this whole thing over'. However, if you still wish to leave, I understand. I won't stop you."

He slowly let his hand drop from her wrist, gliding his fingers softly over her palm. She held back a gasp, as the sensation. Even when he wasn't trying, he still managed to make her feel longing. Was it really worth giving up that over one misunderstanding?

_"_ _Just know that if you give up after hitting one roadblock, you'll always be wondering about what ifs."_

Her hand lowered from the door's button and she turned around to face Vegeta. She nodded. "Okay. I'll stay."

His expression never changed, but his eyes gleamed, with satisfaction. "Come to the Great Hall, tomorrow afternoon. There is something I want you to see." He turned on his heel and began to leave.

"Wait, Vegeta!" He stopped and turned around. She smiled. "Goodnight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all. Shorter chapter, this week. Last few chapters were kind of on the long-side and I have a few really long-winded ones coming up, so this is here to kind of balance it out. Don't think there's much to say, this week. Thanks to everyone who has been leaving comments, favoriting, and all that jazz. I read all the feedback I get, and I'm glad that a lot of you have been enjoying this story. This broke 2,000 hits and is on track for 2,500 hits, which is insane. So thank you for the continued support, and all of that jazz.
> 
> For the record - yes, you were supposed to think that Vegeta was being unreasonable. That can sometimes get lost in translation, so here you go.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net December 16, 2016

Bulma was completely lost. She swore she followed the directions that guard gave her, but she couldn't find a trace of the Grand Hall anywhere. Vegeta didn't give her a time to be there, but she really didn't want to keep him waiting.

She turned a corner and bumped into someone, sending her falling to the floor. "Hey, watch where you're going!"

"My apologies, miss. I should have been paying attention. Are you alright?" He extended his hand towards her.

Her sour mood faded when she heard how polite the other person was acting. She grabbed it and pulled herself up. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just lost."

"Where are you heading? I might be able to point you in the right direction."

"The Grand Hall. I'm supposed to be meeting Vegeta there."

"Ah, you must be the princess. It's an honor to finally meet you." He bowed.

Bulma was shocked. This guy was a perfect gentleman. He didn't even look like a Saiyan. "Please, you don't have to bow, uh…"

"Zarbon, milady. I was actually heading towards the Grand Hall, myself. I'd be happy to accompany you there."

"Why, thank you. I'd love to!"

Bulma and Zarbon walked through the palace corridors to the Grand Hall. She just took a wrong turn, along the way. The two chatted until they reached their destination. Bulma was surprised by how kind and courteous he was. Had she not been interested in Vegeta, she would have been more than willing to go after him.

She turned to him, as she reached her destination. "Thank you again, Zarbon."

"It was no problem at all, your highness. I hope I get to see you again, soon."

"Same with you. See you around!" She waved at him, and walked further into the hall. Zarbon watched her leave for a while, before continuing to his destination.

When Bulma entered the hall, she discovered Vegeta was already there, waiting for her. He leaned against a wall, stippling his fingers over his bicep, and had an irritated scowl on his face.

"Took you long enough, woman. Were you really that busy hanging out with Zarbon, of all people?"

"No. I just got lost and he was courteous enough to show me the way. And it's not my fault you never gave me a specific time, Prince Veggie."

His upper lip twitched, but he grabbed her hand and led her into the hall.

The walls were the highest she'd seen, in the palace. The marble-like masonry was a deep maroon, matching the decor of the rest of the palace. The hall was virtually empty and only lighted with candles. Despite being a Saiyan, her eyes couldn't adjust to the darkness well. She just held onto his hand tighter and tried to keep up with his steps.

He stopped in front of a large tapestry. The images depicted scenes of battle, violence, and victory. It looked like it was hand woven. Saiyans weren't normally ones for arts and crafts, so this was surprising.

He spoke before she had the chance to ask questions. "When I look at you, I see a Saiyan woman detached from her heritage and diluted by other cultures. It's time you learn about us and our history."

Vegeta explained the images on the tapestry and the history that went along with them. Long ago, the Saiyans inhabited Planet Plant and lived as warring tribes. When a great drought struck the planet and killed all the inhabiting animals, the Saiyans banded together to find a way to survive. During this time, a group of aliens called the Tuffles saw their plight and took them into their homes on Planet Tuffle. Unlike the Saiyans, the Tuffles were advanced in technology and weaponry. Despite their low power levels, they were a formidable race. The Saiyans agreed to this and left to live on their planet.

However, life on Planet Tuffle was not all that was promised. The Tuffles looked down upon the Saiyans and treated them like second-class citizens; they were nothing more than brute cavemen. Saiyans were forced either into slavery or into the badlands. This lasted for several decades until the out casted Saiyans banded together, once again, to rebel against their oppressors. A powerful and smart Saiyan named Vegeta rose up and lead an army into the Tuffles cities. The Saiyans had grown larger in numbers and forced the Tuffles to flee off of the planet. The enslaved Saiyans were freed and they used the remnants of the Tufflian government to form a monarchy. There, Vegeta became King Vegeta I.

The Saiyans continued to rebuild and reunite the kingdoms. The peace didn't last long, as the Tuffles returned twenty years later. The old Vegeta was killed in battle, so his son, Vegeta II, had to command the army. Not being mindful of the planet's cycles, one heated battle took place during a full moon. The Saiyans transformed into Great Apes and the Tuffles were all but eradicated. Afterwards, Vegeta II became king. The war attracted the attention of those off planet, many of which went to Planet Vegeta to start businesses. The planet began to industrialize, until they came to where they are, today.

Bulma kept quiet during his spiel. It was hard for her to believe that all of it happened in recent years. The Saiyans were a resilient race, to be sure.

"My father had this commissioned just before I was born. He felt that we should have something that represents our heritage and history. It was woven by a few low-classes."

Bulma pointed at an image in the middle – a man shrouded in black with a golden aura around him. "What's that?"

"An old legend amongst us: a thousand years ago, a Saiyan warrior broke free of his limitations and achieved an unprecedented level of power. It's just an old story, though – meant to keep children from getting lazy."

"Is that why you train so much?"

He scoffed. "Hardly. I train in case another enemy threatens our people. Had it not been for the full moon, we would have suffered more against the Tuffles. I've never believed in that old legend, anyway."

Bulma glanced away for a moment, but two portraits caught her eye. One was of the king and a very young Vegeta. Even at that age, he was still scowling. She stifled a giggle, thinking about how much of a snot-nosed brat he must have been, as a child. The other was of a very beautiful Saiyan woman that she didn't recognize.

"Vegeta, who is that woman?"

Vegeta turned around, but didn't answer her immediately. "Queen Cauli of Endive. My mother."

Bulma smiled. Now, she saw the resemblance. The way the portraits were hung made it look like she was looking at her two boys. "Where is she? Why haven't I met her?"

He growled. "She's been dead for almost ten years. Poisoned by a coward."

She gasped. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know-"

"Save it. I never asked for your pity."

She looked down before asking something to change the mood. "What was she like?"

"She was everything a Saiyan woman should be – proud, cunning, and strong. She ruled alongside my father as an equal. Had it not been for that coward, she would still be here. Saiyans die in battle; they do not die by poison and disease."

Bulma could hear the tension in his voice. She put her hand on his shoulder and slowly rubbed it. "I'm sure she'd be proud to have you as her son."

Vegeta was very thankful that the hall was dimmed; it hid the pinkness of his cheeks and nose. "Come, woman. There are other things I want to show you." With that, they left the Grand Hall.

* * *

Zarbon left the Grand Hall straight for his superior's quarters. He was not sure if what he heard constituted as suspicion, but he was better safe than sorry. He pressed the intercom next to the door. "Frieza, my lord, it's Zarbon."

"Enter," he heard from the other side. Zarbon hit the door's button and entered the room.

Frieza was standing in front of a window, overlooking the landscape of Planet Vegeta. "Tell me you've discovered something about our little princess."

"If you ask me, nothing about her seems out of the sorts. Though she apparently doesn't know much about her people's heritage or history. Vegeta had to explain everything to her. She didn't even know what the Legendary was."

Frieza tapped a finger on his chin. That was odd. He recalled that she was raised on another planet, but surely Saiyans outside of Planet Vegeta would still known their own culture.

"This might just be me, but she doesn't very much act like a Saiyan. I don't see the same ferociousness or lust for battle in her. Take away the tail and you wouldn't be able to tell that she was one."

"Is that all?"

"All that I saw, yes."

Frieza paused. "Alright. That will be all, Zarbon. Return to your post."

"Sir." He spun on his heel and left the room.

Frieza looked back out the window. Planet Vegeta was hardly anything impressive – just a mass of red rocks. However, even the best empires had to start small. The plan would be enacted sooner than later. He waited thirty years, and his turn was almost upon him. He'd show his father that he was a fool for not naming him the heir to the Cold Empire. If he conquered enough worlds, perhaps he'd change his mind.

Still, he couldn't let his suspicions with the princess go. They didn't have a leg to stand on – just minor observations. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but from the beginning, he suspected that she wasn't telling the whole truth. If he wanted to get down to the truth, he'd have to do it, himself. He called for one of his soldiers – he had a few errands he had to run.

* * *

Bulma nearly skipped back to her room. The day that she and Vegeta spent together was wonderful. He had shown her around the palace and introduced her to the staff and court. They even had a meal together. She couldn't believe that she was willing to throw all of this away last night. Vegeta was keeping his word, and it finally seemed that she had a chance. She could only hope that he was starting to feel the same way.

She entered her room and leaned against the closed door. She sighed, as she thought of the day's events. She wouldn't call Vegeta Prince Charming, by any stretch; no, Prince Charming wished that he could be more like him. He could just touch her arm and she'd break out into goose bumps. It was a shame he wore those gloves all the time – she wanted to know what it was like to feel his bare hands caressing her all over.

"I take it your day went well."

Bulma jumped, but relaxed when she saw Piccolo sitting at the other end of the room. His arms and legs were crossed and he had one eye open. He must have been meditating before she came in.

"Yeah. It was wonderful. Vegeta was a perfect gentleman. You should have seen him."

He seemed to acknowledge what she said before closing his other eye.

Bulma walked up beside him and sat down. "Have you ever been in love before?"

He snorted. "I've never understood it."

She titled her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"When you've been around for as long as I have, you start to question things a lot more. Trust me, any wishes I've ever granted that involved love ended badly for both of them. It tends to bring out the worst in people. I suppose that turned me off from getting involved much in it."

"Well, yeah, sometimes it can, but it can also bring out the best in people."

"I never said that it couldn't. Just in my experience, the former happens more often."

Bulma looked away, for a moment. She knew Piccolo was cynical, but it was hard to wrap her head around his complete dismissal of love. Maybe something happened that made him like that. "There must have been someone you cared about, before. You said you've been around for over a century – surely there was one person."

For some reason, he didn't have the heart to tell her that wasn't the case. Her optimism was going to get her killed, one day. "Just let it go, kid. I don't feel like recalling my life story, tonight."

Mercifully, there was a knock at the door. Bulma got up and pushed the open button, seeing another Saiyan soldier at the other side.

"Princess, his highness requested your presence at dinner, tonight."

She smiled at him. "I'd love to! Tell him I'll be there."

The soldier nodded and walked away. Before he could get down the hallway, she yelled for him again.

"Wait! Warn the staff that there'll be an extra person joining them, tonight."

He nodded again and marched off.

Bulma went back into the room, and checked herself over in the mirror.

"I can't imagine who that extra person is referring to."

"C'mon, Piccolo! You were there last time – they might be expecting you there, again. Do it for me. Please?" She clasped her hands together, and gave him her best pleading look, batting her eyelashes for emphasis.

He groaned. "Fine." He really hoped that this would be the last time he did something for her without a wish. He was getting too soft. Quickly, he donned his disguise, with a nod of his head.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask – how are you getting stuff out of thin air?"

"An old trick I learned. No, I'm not going to teach it to you without a wish."

"Alright, fine. Sorry I brought it up." With that, they left the guest wing.

Like the previous night, getting to the dining hall was fast, and there weren't any interruptions. When they got to the hall, Vegeta and the king were already there.

King Vegeta walked up to Bulma and Piccolo. He seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood. "Princess, thank you for joining us. I was thrilled when I found out my son invited you. I hope you're still enjoying your stay."

Bulma bowed. "It's been wonderful, your majesty. You all have been so accommodating and kind."

He smirked and nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. Please, both of you, come sit. Dinner will be here, shortly."

Bulma and Piccolo walked over to the table. Before she could pull out her chair, Vegeta beat her to it. She smiled at him, touched by the simple gesture. "Thank you, Vegeta."

His face was expressionless, but he grunted, in acknowledgement. She sat down, and he pushed her chair in until she was inches away from the table. Then, he went to take his own seat. Bulma looked over at Piccolo and grinned. He just snorted before sitting down.

Vegeta pointed at him. "I don't think I've met the Namek. Who is he?"

"Oh, this is Majunior. He's my guard, and one of my best friends."

Piccolo didn't appreciate being referred to in third person. Nor did he ever expect her to call him a 'best friend'. "It's a pleasure, your highness."

"Hmm," Vegeta said, while nodding.

As the night before, servants came into the dining hall, carrying trays and trays of food. Without letting a single space of the table go to waste, they laid down every plate and bowl of food. The selection was the same as the night before, but it still looked mouth-wateringly delicious. Everyone filled up their plates and started eating*.

The dinner was quiet, but occasionally Bulma and Vegeta would say a few things to each other. The king had stayed out of his son's business for the past couple days, so this was a surprise for him. He hadn't seen him this casual with someone besides Nappa and Raditz in years. He didn't know what brought this on, but he was glad to see them getting along. Maybe there was still hope, after all.

That thought reminded him of something. "Vegeta, the seamstresses asked for you to see them, tomorrow morning. They have some final touch-ups to make to your new armor, for tomorrow's feast."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, father. I haven't forgotten about that."

Bulma looked between them. "What's the feast for?"

"It's an old tradition amongst the Vegeta line. When our children became of age, we threw a large party and feast for the entire village to enjoy. Back in the ancient days, it was rare for a Saiyan to make it that far, in life. When my father took the throne, he saw no reason to nix our normal traditions. So, we have a feast and invite all the nobles, elites, and upper-low classes to celebrate such a glorious event. You are more than welcome to join us, princess."

"I would love to! Thank you, your majesty."

Vegeta scoffed. "I don't see what the fuss is all about. It's just another day of the year."

"Nonsense! It's a momentous occasion for any Saiyan. You only come of age once. Besides, it's our tradition."

"Just because it's a tradition doesn't mean it is right." Vegeta glared at his father, for emphasis.

"Regardless, you're still going. Hundreds have been planning this night for months, and I won't let that go to waste."

"And whose fault would that have been."

The king groaned. Why did Vegeta insist on arguing with him on everything? "Son…"

Before he could continue, a soldier came into the room, and bowed. "King Vegeta, one of the councilmen wished to speak with you about tomorrow's festivities."

The king nodded. "Alright. I'll be there, immediately." He pushed himself out of his chair and began to leave the room. He turned back to Vegeta, when he reached the door. "We'll discuss this, later." With that, he stepped into the hallway.

Vegeta groaned. Why couldn't his father see past useless traditions and ancient rulings? He was king; he had the power to propel the Saiyans into the future. Yet, here he was: a stickler for the ancient ways. When he became king, he would do away with all of them.

Bulma and Piccolo glanced at each other. Neither of them knew what to say. Bulma knew that Vegeta had a rocky relationship with his dad, but she didn't that it was this bad. Maybe it was just how she was raised, but no parent and child should argue that much.

Hesitantly, she spoke up. "Have you thought about talking to your dad, at all?"

He barked out a laugh. "The old man can't listen to any reason, if it goes against convention. Believe me – I've tried."

"Have you really? Your dad seems like a reasonable guy. I think he'd be open to some change, around here. Have you really had a conversation about this; one where you lay everything on the table?"

Vegeta didn't respond. No, they hadn't – most of them ended with one of them screaming at the other and storming off.

"Maybe you should start there. You might be able to work something out by just talking to each other and being honest."

She didn't look, but she could feel Piccolo's eyes on her. She probably looked like a massive hypocrite to him. She said that Vegeta could be honest and open with his father, but she wasn't being honest and open with him. She knew he'd catch on, eventually – it was only a matter of time before something slipped. He wouldn't forgive her, if the truth didn't come from her.

Maybe now was the best time.

She glanced around the room, to make sure no one else was around. "Vegeta," she said. He looked at her. "There's something I should tell you."

He crossed his arms. "What is it, then?"

She took a deep breath, stood up from her chair, and walked over to him. She twiddled her thumbs, while she tried to find the right words to say. "I'm… you see… I'm not really a-"

Suddenly, the door opened. Of course, now was the time someone decided to join in. She swore she heard Piccolo curse, under his breath. She shook her head. "Never mind, I'll tell you later."

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

Bulma immediately froze, when she heard that voice. No. That couldn't be who she thought it was. She really hoped it wasn't who she thought it was.

Vegeta growled. "Frieza. If you're looking to kiss up to my father, he left just a while ago."

"Oh no, I'm not here for him. I see you have guests with you that I haven't been introduced to. I figured now was a good time to do so."

She could feel her heart beat faster, as Frieza walked closer to her. Would he recognize her? What would he do, if he did? She managed to suppress most of her anxiety and fear, and turned around to face him.

Frieza's eyes lit up, as she faced him. "Ah. You must be the little princess that I've heard so much about. I am Lord Frieza. I'm an advisor to the king."

She nodded. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

Without warning, he took her hand, caressing it with his thumb. "Might I say: you are even more beautiful than I heard." Before she could react, he kissed the back of her hand. As soon as he loosened his grip, she pulled her hand back. Even while wearing gloves, she still felt like she needed a shower.

Frieza grabbed an empty glass from the table and filled it with wine. "So, princess, how are you enjoying your stay?"

She cleared her throat. "I like it a lot. It's been very nice."

"Wonderful. This is certainly something you can tell your friends back home, about. Where is home for you, exactly"

"Oh. I-It's a kingdom on a planet really far from here. Much farther than anywhere you've ever traveled, sir."

Frieza swirled the wine in his glass around, while staring at her. "Is that so? Well, you will just have to take us all there, someday. Surely, your king will be thrilled about a potential alliance with Planet Vegeta."

Bulma didn't have a response to that, and she really hoped that wasn't obvious. When she came up with her princess persona, she didn't think the specifics through, very well.

Before she could think of a rebuttal, he continued. "Tell me – have you ever done business with the Cold Empire? Perhaps we can network. My father is its leader and I am more than willing to put in a good word for you. Maybe even two, if you make it worth my while."

"N-No, no. We haven't, but I'll be sure to tell everyone back home about then, when I'm there next."

"Oh, that won't be necessary. I can send an envoy for you, on my behalf. Just tell me the quadrant you live in, and I can forward the message, from there."

Now, she was beginning to get scared; he had her in a corner. "No, really, Lord Frieza, you don't have to do this. I really doubt they'd be interested, anyways."

"But I insist. I might even deliver it, myself."

Piccolo stood up. "That's enough. She's not interested, so I suggest you back off."

"Right. I apologize, princess."

"No, please don't. I think we should head back to the guest wing. Ma?"

Piccolo nodded, and they left the room. She was practically running.

As soon as the door shut, she let out a sigh, of relief. "Thanks. I didn't think I could handle being in there, for much longer." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Does he know? Do you think he knows?"

"I doubt it. You'd probably know for sure, if he does. He seems like someone who'd rub that in your face."

Bulma started pacing. "Oh my. I did not think that I'd have to deal with him, again. How could I have been so stupid?! Why didn't I think about that?!"

In the middle of her tirade, Piccolo put his hand up. He was leaning close to the door. "Wait, just shut up for one second." When she stopped talking, she heard some yelling coming from inside. She ran up and put her ear against the door.

" _She is a rather pretty one. I'll give you that much. Though, I do wonder what Bulma would say, if she saw you trying to woo her…_ "

Something slammed against the wall. " _Don't you dare talk about her, you bastard!_ "

" _I never thought that you were the rebound type. Not that I blame you, for it – there is certainly a resemblance. Still, you could have at least let her body cool. How do you think the princess would react, if I happened to tell her the truth? I don't think she'd appreciate playing second to a ghost._ "

Bulma held back a gasp. That couldn't have meant what she thought it did.

She heard Vegeta snarl. " _You bastard. When I become king, you'll pay for what you did to her._ "

" _You still don't get it. You can blame me for it all you want, but had you not been so selfish and run out of the palace without warning, she might still be here. Your insubordination caused all of this. And no amount of screaming at me is going to bring her back, Vegeta._ "

She heard one more slam against the wall, followed by heavy stomping. Piccolo grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the door. It promptly slid open, and Vegeta stormed out of the room. He didn't even notice that they were there. His shoulders were hunched over, and he was growling unintelligible words. As he got further down the hall, he snarled and wiped his face. Bulma tried to run after him, but Piccolo held a firm grip on her shoulder.

"The last thing you ever want to do is get in an angry Saiyan's way."

As he rounded the corner, everything she heard began to sink in. Now, it all made sense. Why he was so mean to her, at first. Why he was acting so distant. Why he hadn't recognized her, yet.

He thought she was dead.

Of course, Frieza would want to cover up the whole Dragon Ball thing with some excuse. The fact that he came up with 'death' was not a surprising one. No, what surprised her was Vegeta's reaction to it. Was he really that upset, over it? Did she really mean that much to him? She couldn't wrap her head around it – he had barely known her.

She sighed and ran her fingers through her bangs. What was she going to do, now? She wanted to be honest with Vegeta, but she wasn't sure if she could, anymore. If she did tell him, he'd think that she was lying or playing a cruel prank on him. Did she have to keep up the act forever? How much longer could she stand to do it? Keeping up appearances was exhausting; she'd fail sooner than later. And what about Frieza? He wasn't an idiot. He was going to catch on, eventually. She should have left when she had the chance. It was far too late to do that, now.

"Let's go back to the room. I think I need some time to think this whole thing over."

Piccolo was expecting that. "Sure, kid."

The walk back was quiet. Then, out of nowhere, Piccolo stuck his hand out in front of her, stopping her forward motion. He was focused on a spot on the ceiling. "Piccolo?"

"It's Vegeta. His energy is skyrocketing."

"What? Why?"

He shrugged. "Who knows?"

Bulma glanced back. "Maybe we should check on him. I don't want him to hurt himself." Before he could speak again, she felt the jolt of energy from him. Even she, who could barely tell her energy from her own, could feel it. She immediately started running down the hallway, following the energy. Piccolo groaned and ran after her.

* * *

Vegeta fell to his knees, after being hit with another one of his ki-blasts. He had only been going at this for a few minutes, and it was already taking its toll on him. His armor was already in tatters, and bits of his chest plate were stuck in his skin. He stumbled back onto his feet and resumed a stance. He threw another blast. He blocked and dodged it as it bounced along the walls. Then, it hit him square in the chest, knocking him onto his back. His ki was flocculating so much that a bright white aura was surrounding him.

He put all of his energy into one power-up, screaming until his throat and vocal chords were aching. He powered up past his limits and held it for several seconds. Then, his knees gave out and he fell onto his stomach. His breathing was ragged, his body was burning up, and he was fading in and out of consciousness.

He heard the door open and a gasp. At this point, he was too far-gone to care if someone saw him in such a pathetic state. The sights and sounds around him grew fuzzy, but he felt himself being turned onto his back.

" _Vegeta, please. Don't do this to yourself._ "

He felt his heart sore, when he heard that voice. The exhaustion might have been making him mushy, but it was the first time he didn't hear it cry out for him, in fear.

"Bulma, I'm so sorry," he whispered, still having his eyes closed. "I failed you. I was supposed to protect you."

" _But you did protect me. You never failed. I'm sitting right here, in front of you._ "

He slightly shook his head. "No. You're dead. You're a ghost. All because of me. I let Frieza take you away from me. Don't defend me."

He felt a hand cup his cheek and another hold his hand. " _Does that feel like a ghost to you, Vegeta?_ "

His gloves were torn and worn, so he felt her warm skin against his. He squeezed her hand slightly and leaned into her palm. For an apparition, this felt so real. "Forgive me. I never wanted to lose you."

" _You haven't lost me. And you won't, whether you like it or not._ " He felt a pair of lips press against his palm, softly.

Vegeta found the energy to open his eyes. His vision was immediately met with a familiar pair of bright, sparkling blue eyes. Even half-conscious, he still managed to crack a smirk. He almost forgot how beautiful she was. Though it might have been a vision, he felt relieved to see her, again. "Bulma…"

She smiled down at him and nodded. Unshed tears were flooding her eyes. Slowly, her image faded, as his vision became clear, again. Her hair turned darker and her clothing changed. However, the same look of love was on her face. "Yes, Vegeta. And I'm not going to leave you, again."

This was enough to wake him up. He swore that he felt his heart stop. He slowly sat up and hesitantly touched the hand on his cheek. He looked at her with almost child-like wonder. "Bulma?"

She laughed. "I wish I'd have known that this was what it took for you to call me by my name."

He quickly pulled her into a tight embrace. He had so many questions, but he didn't care to ask them. He ignored the part of him that was ashamed for showing so much to her, as well. He was too relieved to care.

They sat like this for what felt like moments; in reality, it was for a good ten minutes. Bulma would have said something, but for the first time in years, she felt loved and cherished. She should have done this a lot sooner.

Bulma felt something wet seep onto her clothes. She was slightly alarmed when she realized that it was his blood. Then, she heard him snoring, by her ear. She groaned, but didn't wake him up – he deserved the rest. Slowly, she propped his body up, on her shoulder. Piccolo had left her alone to deal with Vegeta, so she had to carry him to the medical ward all by herself. Vegeta wasn't losing much blood, but she was worried about his wounds getting infected.

Slowly, they reached the ward. Unfortunately, there wasn't a doctor in sight. She sighed. It was a good think that her dad taught her basic first aid, while she was in college. Carefully, she propped Vegeta onto a gurney and laid him down. After she washed her hands and put on gloves, she removed his upper armor and spandex. She ran over to the side table, and grabbed a pair of tweezers, a cloth, and rubbing alcohol. She gingerly removed the pieces of his chest plate that were stuck in his stomach, and dropped them into a bowl. There were quite a few small pieces stuck to him, making this difficult. She put on a pair of magnifying goggles sitting on the counter, to find the stray pieces. Once she found them all, she put a bit of rubbing alcohol onto the cloth and carefully cleaned his wounds.

She heard him hiss, underneath him. When she looked up at him, he was awake, again. She continued to clean the small holes, mindful of the Saiyan that was staring at her, intently.

"At least you're awake, now. Sit up, and I'll bandage your stomach."

He scoffed. "I don't need bandages for some small stomach wounds."

"Yes, you do. Saiyan or not, you'll thank me when they don't get infected or worse."

He groaned, as he slowly sat up. Bulma took out a new and clean roll of bandages and went back beside him. Gingerly, she began to wrap it across his stomach. She tried not to stare at his naked chest, while doing so. Somehow, he must have known that, as he was smirking down at her.

"Like what you see, woman?"

"Shut up, Vegeta," she said. She laid down the final bandage, sealing it with an adhesive. "Well, there you go. You'll probably be able to take that off, tomorrow morning. Nothing to worry about, at all. Any questions?"

"How?"

She sighed. She knew this conversation was coming. "How do I put this: after Frieza kidnapped me, he took me to a far off planet to find this old artifact that can grant wishes. He tried to kill me, after I gave him it, but then I found another one that was identical to the one I just gave up. It turned out there was a guy inside of there that could grant wishes. I used one wish to come back to Planet Vegeta, and the next to become a Saiyan." While she was saying it out loud, she realized just how bizarre her week had been. There was no way anyone on Earth was going to know about this.

Vegeta would have called her a liar, but he knew she was telling the truth. After all, who could have made up a story like that? "Were you planning on telling me?"

"I was, but I didn't know how. You heard all of that. How was I supposed to explain that to you?" She ran her hand through her bangs. "Sorry it took me so long, though."

"Don't apologize. You did nothing for me to deserve one."

"Anyway, I think you'll be okay for your feast, tomorrow evening." When she looked up, he was glaring at her. "Don't tell me you're still on this. Just go. I'm sure it'll be fun."

He nodded. "I will, but under one condition."

"Okay, what?"

"You join me, for it."

She shrugged. "I was going to go, anyway, but sure. I'll be there."

"Good."

Neither spoke, for the next several moments. There were a lot of words that needed to be said, between the two. However, neither knew where to start. They just stared at each other. Both of them were waiting for the other to make the first move.

Before he could, she patted his shoulder and walked towards the door. "Rest up, Vegeta. I'm sure tomorrow's going to be a long day. Goodnight." He nodded, and she left the room.

Bulma held her head in her hand. "Phew!" It felt good to have that secret off her chest. At least she could go back to acting like her normal self, again. Maybe things won't be so awkward between her and Vegeta, anymore; they were at least being honest with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am officially done with school, for the semester! Thank goodness! For the next few weeks, I hope to have some more one-shots and quickies up. These won't interfere with A Thrilling Chase, so don't worry about that.
> 
> Quick Disclaimer: I have never seen GT, so the history lesson in this will differ from some interpretations presented in that show. Also, I screwed around a lot with the timeline already, so this is just par for the course.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net December 23, 2016

The morning before the feast was all but complete chaos. People were running left and right to make sure everything was in order. It was impossible to walk through the halls without running into someone panicking about the event. One would think that a war was about to start.

Vegeta was rushed around from person to person to get ready, for that evening. The seamstresses had a collective aneurysm when he said that his good armor was destroyed, last night. So, he had to stand still for hours, so that they could construct a new chest plate. It made him feel like a doll. When it was done, he had a finer piece of armor to wear. The gold was more metallic, and the Saiyan royal crest was printed in red on the right breastplate. A long red cape was pinned to the shoulder plates, as well. Once he was dressed, he was shipped off to pose for a royal portrait – which meant more hours of standing perfectly still. When the Tuffles ruled, a portrait would be painted of their leader, when they came into power. Vegeta I liked this idea, and adopted it for when the men of their family became of age.

Nappa entered the room, while it was still being painted. Vegeta glanced over at him "What do you want, Nappa?"

"Just came to see how you were holding up. And to make sure you weren't killing one of the artisans. How are you feeling?"

He groaned. "I just want this day to be over."

"Oh, cheer up. After a couple more hours of this, you can relax and enjoy the feast. Speaking of which – Raditz wanted to talk to you, beforehand. Says he has a present for the birthday boy."

He put his hand on his forehead. "Why do I let myself around that buffoon?"

"Hey! Stand still," yelled the painter. Vegeta crossed his arms and resumed his previous stance.

"Are the guests beginning to arrive?"

"Hundreds of them. You're probably not going to like a lot of them."

"Fantastic…" He knew this meant the other suitors were coming back. They wouldn't give up a chance to become queen that easily. A small smirk formed on his face. They were going to be severely disappointed, when Bulma showed up as his date. He couldn't wait to see their faces.

He still couldn't believe that she was alive, this whole time. Not only alive, but she had managed to trick the entire court into thinking that she was a Saiyan princess. He still had so many questions. He had to know how she managed to survive her encounter with Frieza, or how she managed to become a convincing Saiyan. One thing was certain, though – he would not lose her, again.

"So, is the princess going," Nappa asked.

He shrugged. "She said she would, after my father invited her. Why do you care?"

"I heard that you showed her around the palace, yesterday, and that you were the one who invited her to dinner, last night. Is there something you're going to tell your father tonight?"

He scoffed. "I'm not ready to mate with the damn girl, if that's what you're implying. She's just more… charming than I thought she was."

Nappa held back a laugh. His tinted cheeks didn't pass him. This reminded him of how the elder Vegeta was when he met Cauli. The apple never did fall far from the tree. "Whatever you say, kiddo."

"Do you have anything else to talk about, or are you just going to question me about my love life?"

"Actually, there's one other thing. I was told that you were in the medical ward, last night. Did something happen?"

"No, there is not. I just over-exerted myself while training, again. I'm fine, now."

He could tell that he was fibbing. From what he had heard, he was more than just exhausted. It was so bad that apparently the princess hauled him there, herself. Nappa was worried that he had another episode. Still, he seemed fine, now. Maybe he was just being a worrywart.

"Just know that if you need anything, I'm here for you."

"I won't need it. I can handle my problems on my own, Nappa."

"Whatever you say."

The painter pointed at Nappa. "Could you leave for a few minutes? Until I can get the pose just right, I can't have my model distracted."

Nappa nodded, and looked back at Vegeta. "Happy coming of age, Vegeta. I'll see you, tonight." Vegeta nodded back at him, and he left the room.

* * *

Bulma woke up early in the afternoon. Tonight was the big fest, and she wanted to be ready for it. She walked around the palace, trying to figure out what to expect. Even that early, the decorations and preparations were almost ready. The walls were decorated with ribbons, curtains, and torches. There were large tables set up across the room, able to hold a plethora of food and drink. There was even a band setting up, in one of the corners of the room.

While looking around, she saw a group of Saiyan women conversing with each other. The assumed leader was dressed in a fine cape and jewelry, on top of her normal armor. Bulma never saw that many women around the palace, so she went up to greet them. Maybe they would be friendly.

"Hi there," she said.

The head woman turned around to face her, and nodded at her. "Hello."

"I've never seen you around the court, before. Who are you?"

She scoffed. "Were you born, yesterday? I am General Cebolla. The strongest Saiyan woman on the planet. And who might you be?"

"Oh. I'm Princess Chou of Laitue. Nice to meet you!" She extended her hand, for a shake.

"Never heard of your kingdom, before. Are you here for the prince, too?"

She was confused. "Excuse me?"

"You don't know? Today is his coming of age. This means he has to choose a mate, by the end of the evening. Whoever that is will become Queen of the Saiyans, one day. Planet Vegeta could use some female guidance. Look at how we've stagnated, since Queen Cauli died. That brat is going to need someone to keep him on task, I bet you."

She started feeling defensive. "Vegeta isn't a brat. He can be kind of a prick, at times, but he's a good man underneath all of that."

She laughed. "Oh, you sweet naïve little thing. You clearly aren't from around here. Vegeta's turned down literally every single girl who's tried to get in his good graces. He didn't do it out of retaliation – he just did it for a petty rebellion streak. The king's too softhearted towards his son to do anything about it. Eventually, it's going to stop, if the Vegeta family wants to keep the throne. When that happens, a strong and prideful Saiyan woman will rule by his side. Like me."

She rolled her eyes. "If by strong and prideful, you mean haughty and pretentious, then certainly. You'd be perfect."

She could see her lower eyelid flinch – she certainly struck a nerve. "Scoff all you want, but that's exactly what this kingdom needs. I'm sure you're a nice girl, so I suggest you leave before you get your heart broken, tonight. After all, what sort of chance does a no-name princess have at winning over a Saiyan elite?"

As the group looked away, Bulma heard the Saiyan woman's posse chuckling and giggling with each other. If all of the other suitors were like this, then it was no wonder why he ran all of them out of the palace. She would show them – she would prove to them that a 'no-name princess' could be just as prestigious as any other Saiyan woman could.

Bulma quickly realized a problem – she had nothing to wear, besides her current armor. It wasn't nearly fancy enough. She doubted that Vegeta would care, but she really wanted to show those stuck-up elites up, and leave an impression on everyone. If she could get a hold of some stray materials and tools, then she could probably construct something quickly. With new determination, she ran to the library. There was research that had to be done.

* * *

Vegeta still had some time to kill, before the feast started. He put on a clean spandex suit, and went down to the training room. Getting out his frustration beforehand would keep him from wanting to blast a guest, later that evening.

The night before, amidst his panic attack, he had surpassed his previous limits. He wondered if he could do it again, without just pure anger. Though emotion was key to unlocking many Saiyan's true potential, learning to control those emotions helped hone in that power. He slowly began powering up, again. If he could hold that power for just a few minutes, then that would be a step in the right direction. For curiosity's sake, he put up a small bot with a power-level tracker attached to it. The numbers didn't matter to him, but he could at least compare himself to the other fighters, with it.

The ground and walls began to shake around him, and pieces of the floors tiles began to rise. He let out a long scream, as his aura flashed around him. The numbers on the bot climbed and climbed, with every second. 18,000… 19,000… 20,000… 22,000… 25,000… before the number could get any higher, the bot exploded into pieces. As he felt he reached his limit, he stopped powering up.

In all of his life, he never felt this kind of strength, before. His muscles and skin were tingling, with power. He never would have thought that he could reach this level. If the bot was correct, he might have surpassed his own father. Still, he couldn't get cocky and complacent. He knew there was an even greater level of power to achieve.

He threw a ki-ball against the wall, expecting it to bounce off, as it normally did. Instead, it completely obliterated the steel sidings, almost breaking the entire wall. He made a mental note to alert the mechanics about this.

There was a knock on the door. Vegeta groaned, and lowered his power back, again. When he opened it, he was greeted by Raditz, standing with a hand behind his back.

Vegeta stepped around him, expecting to be followed. In all of their years of being friends, Vegeta stopped arguing when Raditz came by to visit. He was just as stubborn as he was. "What do you want?"

"So, tell me – how does it feel being of age?"

"Doesn't feel any different than it did, a day ago."

Raditz slapped him, on his back. "Quit being such a killjoy. You're the man of the hour! At least try to live a little."

"This can't be all you've come to harass me over." Sure enough, he shoved a box in his face. "What the heck is this?"

"I learned from some foreigners that some planets give people stuff, on their birthdays. I thought it was a cool idea, so here you go."

Vegeta scoffed, but took the box from his hand. "A day of birth is hardly an occasion worthy for presents." He weighed it in his hands, before taking the top of the box off. Inside, there were two medallions, both attached to silver chains. One was engraved with an Oozaru, the Saiyan Great Ape; the other was engraved with a simple conch shell.

Raditz began explaining, before he asked any questions. "The Oozaru one is meant for you. It's symbolic of you reaching your maturity; just as we reach our full potential as Great Apes, and just as your father reached his potential during the fight against the Tuffles. That and I thought it would look good with your armor."

He was surprised. This was quite thoughtful, of him. Regardless of how much he mocked him, Raditz was the closest thing to a friend that Vegeta ever had. He wouldn't trade him for anything. Of course, he would never tell him that.

He pointed at the other medallion. "What about that one?"

"Well, you don't have to use it tonight, but it's meant for your intended. Don't choose them out of haste – wait until you know for sure. The shell is supposed to symbolize you calling out to your mate… or something like that. I didn't quite get what the jeweler was explaining to me, when I bought it."

"You bought this. With your own money."

Raditz shrugged. "I had to take out a couple loans for it, but it was worth it."

Vegeta took out the Oozaru medallion, and closed the lid. He didn't see himself using the other one anytime soon. "You are far too sentimental for your own good."

Raditz knew that was the closest he was going to get to a 'thank you'. "Maybe so. Anyways, I think you should be getting ready. Your father will probably lose it, if you're late."

He knew that was true, so he hurried down the hallway. The sooner he got ready, the sooner he'd be done with this nonsense.

* * *

Bulma sat in the guestroom, putting the finishing touches on her new outfit. She had the only art book in the library sitting next to her, opened to a rendering of ancient Saiyan formalwear. Using that as a base, she came up with a rough idea of what she wanted the finished dress to look like. She grabbed whatever spare armor plates and fabrics she could get from the seamstresses, and brought them back to her room.

Along the way, she ran into Zarbon. He was nice enough to help her carry her things, back to her room. He was still such a gentleman, and so very kind. They chatted about the feast; he was planning on going, as well.

_"If you'll allow me to ask," he said, "is that what all of this is for?"_

_"That's right. I'm making something new, to wear."_

_"I'm sure you'll look ravishing, regardless. But you'll have to be an expert seamstress to make something, in time."_

_"I can handle it, don't you worry."_

For the next several hours, she constructed the dress. She had designed clothing before, but nothing quite to this scale or in this short of a time frame. Bulma was never one to back down from a challenge, so she continued with her plan.

Piccolo had come out of the Dragon Ball while she was working, and she didn't seem to notice. She was too engrossed in her work to care. He had never seen her quiet and focused, before. She mentioned something about being an inventor and an engineer, but he thought nothing of it. Now, he saw a bit of proof, even if it was in a different field.

Bulma finished hemming the skirt, and laid the finished product on the bed. "There! All finished!" She looked at the clock. "And just half an hour to spare!" She walked up to the mirror, and gussied up, a bit.

"You know, I could have made you something if you just wished for it."

She nodded. "I know. I just thought I could do it better, myself. You're not a mind reader, after all."

He should have expected that response. If egotism were a Saiyan's defining trait, she wouldn't even need the tail. Still, this brought up some concern. "You are planning on using your last wish, right?"

"I am. I just don't know what to use it for, yet." She tossed her chest plate off and grabbed the dress. "Hey, Piccolo. Mind if I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What would you wish for?"

Now, he was surprised. No one had ever asked him something like that, before. None of his masters ever cared to know about him. As much as Bulma got on his nerves, she was not the same as the others. She actually seemed to care about him and how he felt. He found it hard to wrap his head around – she barely knew him, after all.

He didn't respond. It was not because he didn't know; if he were given a wish, he would give his answer on the spot. It was because he had never voiced it to anyone. He didn't feel like starting with Bulma. He felt like protecting her innocence and naiveté from his bad past.

Bulma noticed how quiet he had gotten, all of a sudden. His eyes were glued to the floor. "Are you embarrassed by it? I wished to be a different race to get a boyfriend, Piccolo. I don't think I'm in any place to judge."

"Let it go, Bulma. I don't want to talk about it."

That shut her up. When he used her name, instead of just 'kid', she knew he was being serious. She dropped the subject, but she wanted to know. She certainly wasn't going to use her last wish on herself, anytime soon.

Bulma grabbed a necklace she borrowed, and quickly put it on. "Don't worry about the feast – I'll go by myself, tonight."

Piccolo glanced up at her. "You're sure about that."

"Yeah. I can handle it fine, tonight. I'm gonna be with Vegeta for most of it, anyway. Unless you want to go, then I won't stop you."

He snorted. "No thank you."

Bulma looked over herself, in the mirror. For the first time since the wish was made, she felt like a princess. She knew she hit the jackpot, with this get-up. "Well, I better get going. Don't want to miss the dancing." She ran towards the door.

"Have fun, kid."

She looked back at Piccolo, and smiled at him. "I will. Thank you, for everything."

"Just get out there before you start crying."

She laughed. "Okay, I'm going!" She slipped out the door, and went down to the party.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net December 30, 2016

The feast began without a hitch. All the guests were thoroughly enjoying the festivities, the music, and the food. I had been so long since the kingdom had a celebration of this scale. The guests chatted in cliques, enjoyed the food, and some of the mated pairs dance. Everything was going by perfectly.

Vegeta was still counting the minutes he had until he could leave. For the first two hours, he had to greet all of the guests and thank them for coming. He gave them a canned response, or he just nodded to them. As Nappa warned, the old suitors returned just for the feast. Some of them looked just as excited to be there as he was – they were probably forced to go by their fathers, as well. Others were suddenly acting nice and gracious towards him, a contrast to how they acted, before. He made sure to sneak in an insult, when they greeted him.

One of the suitors looked at him, and batted her eyelashes. This one had been especially clingy, that night. "Hello, Prince Vegeta. This is a lovely party, you threw."

He shrugged. "It's passable."

She trailed her fingers up his bicep. "Would you like to dance, your highness?"

"I'm not interested in making myself look like a fool."

She continued until her arm was over his shoulder. "Oh, come now. I promise I'm a good dancer."

"I was not talking about the dancing." He glared at her.

She looked offended. "Well, let me know if you change your mind!" Then, she took her leave.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. He knew this wasn't going to be the last time someone did this, either.

The king called for everyone's attention, up on the balcony. He raised a goblet, in the air. "My noble subjects, I would like to propose a toast to my son. It's hard to believe that he is of age, already. Nevertheless, he has matured into a proud and strong Saiyan warrior. I have no doubt that one day; he will lead our people to prosperity."

The room cheered, and clanked their drinks, together.

As the king watched from above, he noticed how uptight Vegeta was still being, especially when around the old suitors. He would have not invited them, but leaving important Saiyan elites from the guest list would have looked bad, on him. He couldn't tell very well, but some of them looked to be getting very handsy, with him. Luckily, Raditz was there to chase them off and distract them.

Was this how all the meetings went? If it was, then it was no wonder that he kicked so many of them to the curb. The king was so worried about primogeniture that he didn't even notice this. He called Nappa, up to the balcony. He might have some insight on this.

Nappa bowed, as he approached the king. "You wanted to see me, your majesty?"

The king didn't turn around to face him – he was still looking at his son. "Nappa, be honest with me: have I been too harsh on the boy?"

He sighed. "Vegeta, you did what you thought was best, for your kingdom. I understand that. But the old ways aren't always the best ways. If we went by the old ways, you and I would have been cast out from the Saiyans a long time ago."

"What do you think Cauli would say?"

"If you want me to be honest, she'd probably yell at you and call you a stubborn oaf." The king chuckled. Of course, she would. "Look, Vegeta, I know you're worried about the boy finding someone. But you can't force love onto people. This sort of stuff takes time. You just got lucky, with your pick."

He nodded. "I know, I know that."

"Your son's not faultless in this, either. I love the kid, but he can be just as stubborn and selfish. I think you two should just talk, and lay everything out there. Maybe you can reach a compromise."

The king nodded. "Maybe we can. Tell Vegeta to meet me in my study, after the feast. We'll discuss everything, then."

* * *

Vegeta was so bored. He wasn't hungry, his legs were stiff, and the music was grating on his nerves. He just wanted this stupid party to be finished. The only kind of entertainment he got was making fun of the stuck-up elites with Raditz, who was already intoxicated. There were endless bottles and pitchers of wine offered to the guests, after all.

Raditz hit him, on his back. "Quit being such a grump! It's your party. Live a little, for once!"

He looked at him up and down. He was probably two more drinks away from being unable to stand up straight. "And end up like you? No thanks."

Raditz glanced up at the staircase, and a wry smile formed on his face. "Don't look now, but your girlfriend is here."

He looked at him, with a puzzled expression. "What are you talking about?"

He pointed towards the staircase, as silence started to fall onto the crowd. Vegeta turned around and nearly gasped. Bulma was standing at the top, dressed in traditional Saiyan wear. Two leather straps held a piece of silver armor, over her chest. The skirt covered her feet, dressed in white and gold boots. She wore brown leather gauntlets and a gold and sapphire necklace. Her tail was hung loosely around her waist, decorated with beads and ribbons. She looked stunning.

She made her way down the stairs, with much grace and confidence. It was as if she didn't even notice that everyone was staring at her. As she reached the floor, the crowd parted, as she walked towards her destination. She stopped, when she came face to face with Vegeta.

Bulma smiled at him, and curtsied. To everyone's shock, he bowed back, to her. No one outside of the palace had ever seen this girl, before. Why was the prince treating her with more respect than he gives anyone?

The king didn't ignore this. Quickly, he sent someone down to dim the lighting and someone to make the band play a waltz or something dance-worthy. When they got the order, the band abruptly stopped their song, and turned to another page in their books.

As the music started up again, she held out her hand. "Would you like to dance, your highness?" Without hesitation, he took her hand, and she led him to the dance floor.

"You're late, woman," he whispered to her.

"Sorry. Had to put the finishing touches on the dress. I think it was worth the extra effort." He couldn't argue with that.

The song began at a slow tempo. Bulma led, as she had taken dance classes, before. Once he understood the rhythm, he followed through. He was surprisingly light on his feet. The dance floor was completely cleared, as the crowd of guests stopped to watch the show. Not that either of them notice – as far as they were concerned, they were the only people in the room.

She looked down at their feet, then back up at him. "Has anyone told you you're a wonderful dancer?"

"It's no different than fighting."

As the tempo picked up, Vegeta took the lead. Bulma was only barely managing to keep up with his steps. The tempo continued to increase, to the point where he was just doing all of the dancing, and she was just along for the ride. He spun her around, and dipped her before pulling her back up against his chest, right as the song ended. She was breathing heavily; he was still calm and collected.

Suddenly, the crowd started applauding, and they finally took notice of everyone else. He took her hand, and went back to the wall. "I hope you're hungry, woman."

The king was overjoyed, by what he saw. He never thought he'd see that day, but Vegeta was falling in love. He recognized that look in his eyes – he had the same one when he met Cauli. Even before he knew she was his intended, he was completely smitten by her. Saiyans had a knack for telling who their future mate was, and it looked like his son was no exception. Still, he wouldn't go back on his earlier offer. He still wanted to work out a compromise.

The king staring off into the crowd – this was what Frieza was greeted with, when he returned to the balcony. "Your majesty, is something the matter?"

The king chuckled. "It's nothing, Frieza. I think my son may have finally found a suitable mate."

This got his attention. He never thought he'd hear that. "Is that right? Who is the lucky maiden?"

The king pointed towards the back of the room. Vegeta was talking with the princess, while they were eating and drinking. "I knew there was something different about that girl. I think Vegeta's realized it, too."

Frieza didn't disagree – he still felt that there was something off about her, even after their encounter last night. Vegeta was acting a lot more sociable and casual towards her than he was with most people.

"So, how long until the boy proposes," Frieza asked.

The king shook his head. "I wouldn't get that far ahead. This is my son, after all."

Yes, this was Vegeta. Yet, he was acting so friendly towards a girl he had known for only a day. Frieza excused himself, and went down to the main floor. He needed to get more information.

He only brought his two highest-ranking officers – Zarbon and Dodoria – to the party. Dodoria immediately approached him, as he entered the main floor.

"Lord Frieza, have you noticed anything suspicious about that new princess?"

"No, I have not. Have you, Dodoria?"

"When I saw her, I thought she didn't look like a Saiyan. She's way too scrawny and small to be one of their women. As she was with Vegeta, I realize something – she looks a lot like that Earthling girl you told me to get for you. She even sounds like her, too. I know you said you left her on that planet to rot, but is it possible that she made it off of there, herself? If she was her, I'd say that explains why Vegeta's so cozy with her."

Frieza groaned. Dodoria only stated the obvious. He supposed that she might have found a way off planet on her own, but Planet Polaris was practically a desert. Unless she found something that could have aided in her escape, she should be dead, by this point.

And that's when it hit him. He had no real proof of this, but it was the best explanation. If the princess really was the Earth girl, then the only way she could have gotten to where she was now must have been through divine luck.

Or magic.

Somehow, she must have found the Dragon Ball on Planet Polaris, and wished herself back to Planet Vegeta. And if she used that second wish to become a princess, she might still have it, somewhere. It all suddenly made sense.

"Dodoria, tell the others that I'm enacting the plan, tonight. As for you, I want you to bring our deceitful princess to me. Alive."

"Yes, Lord Frieza!"

* * *

Bulma and Vegeta took a break from the dancing and the partying, and went out onto a balcony, overlooking the planet. The view was gorgeous. The half-moon shined over the dry desert, reflecting shadows of the mountains overtop it. The dark red night sky was dotted with bright stars. The pair didn't even talk. They just stared at the stars, together.

"That wasn't all that bad, was it?"

He shrugged. "It was decent."

"Didn't I tell you so? You're so lucky that you have me with you, during all of this."

"Let me know when that luck runs out, please."

She playfully punched him, on his shoulder. She looked bad up at the stars. Maybe she could see some of Earth's constellations, all the way out here. At least that'd give her some piece of home.

She grabbed Vegeta's shoulder, and pointed at the night sky. "Look: There's Orion. He's named after an Ancient warrior, back on Earth."

He narrowed his eyes, but couldn't find anything. "It's just a mass of stars. There's no warrior up there."

She pointed again. "See the red star? That's Betelgeuse. Those three stars going up are parts of Orion's belt. That's another star down in the bottom corner – Rigel. And there's Orion's shield. If you focus hard enough, you can kind of see a man's figure."

"I am focusing, but I cannot see a man there. Is this some odd Earthling custom?"

She shook her head. "Not really. Before our astronomy got really advanced, people used to map out the stars with constellations. Sometimes, it helped people learn directions before we had maps. My dad and I used to look for all of them, when I was a little girl."

Suddenly, she grew solemn. She sighed. "The last time we did it was the night before I left Earth..." She blinked back tears and looked down. "I really miss them."

Vegeta felt awkward. He had never had to comfort someone before, and didn't know how to do it. Hesitantly, he held one of her hands in both of his. He rubbed it with his thumbs, hoping this would give her some comfort.

Bulma could tell that he was hesitant, but the gesture warmed her heart. At least with Vegeta by her side, she wouldn't feel alone. "Do you think I'd be able to explain all of this, to them?" She gestured to herself.

"You're the genius. You should be able to make up an excuse. Say you got caught in some genetic experiments or something."

She laughed. "My parents would probably buy that." She started laughing more, thinking about all of the crazy experiments she came up with, when her dad wasn't looking. Vegeta was relieved that she wasn't so glum, anymore. For the first time since he was a child, he smiled a genuine smile. It didn't even falter when she returned his gaze.

He brought a hand up to her head, running a piece of her hair, through two of his fingers. "The dark hair suits you, but I think I prefer your lighter hair, more."

As it fell back to her head, she brushed it behind her ear. "You really think so?"

He nodded. They continued to stare at each other for several moments. Bulma pushed down her nerves and decided to take her chance. Now was better than ever – a beautiful night overlooking gorgeous scenery with a handsome prince. It was like something straight out of one of her mom's romance novels.

She leaned into him and closed her eyes. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled back. "What are you doing?"

"You've never kissed a girl, before?"

"What's a kiss?"

She smirked at him. "I'll show you."

Once again, she leaned in and closed her eyes. Gently, she pressed her lips against his. His eyes got very wide, as she did so. Was this another Earthling custom? It was more intimate than what he was used to, but it felt nice. She puckered her lips against his, and he slowly did the same.

She pulled away from him, her lips lingering on his. "That, my dear prince, is a kiss."

He was almost too dazed to speak. He cleared his throat. "Do your people do this often?"

"Not really. Only with someone we really care about. There are different kinds of kisses we give to different kinds of people. However, you shouldn't really do it to someone at random, unless you know that they're into that sort of thing."

His voice nearly cracked. "Noted."

His nervousness wasn't unnoticed. She could have some fun, with this. She clasped her hands underneath her and swayed her shoulders. "Did you at least like it?"

"Passable."

"Would you mind if I do it, again?"

"I-I don't know. No."

She held his shoulder and leaned her head against his forehead. His face was a red as a beet, at this point. "Just tell me if you want to stop." He nodded.

She pulled him towards her and their lips touched, rougher this time. She gently bit on his bottom lip, making him gasp. She swiped her tongue around his mouth, moving it with his. Vegeta gave into the sensations, breathed out of his nose, and closed his eyes, allowing her to take control of the kiss. He pulled her closer to him, desperate for more contact. It was as if the planet stopped turning and they were the only ones there.

Bulma peeked one of her eyes open and noticed that they were floating a few inches off the ground. She smiled, and pulled back from him. He didn't even open his eyes for a few more seconds.

He exhaled, loudly. That was intense. He never thought that he would enjoy another culture's customs that much.

Vegeta glanced back at the party. Most of the guests had gone home, and some of the servants were already taking down decorations. He sighed. "I should go. My father wanted to speak to me, after the feast."

She was disappointed, but nodded. "Happy birthday, Vegeta. I hope you enjoyed your present." She leaned in and kissed his cheek, before leaving the balcony.

Vegeta lifted a hand to that cheek. She did that same gesture at the port. Was she harboring those feelings for that long? He shook his head. No, she mentioned that different kisses mean different things. Maybe that meant something different than it did, now. He decided not to think too much of it. It probably wasn't wise to be thinking of her right before he went to meet with his father. With that, he left for his study.

Bulma skipped down the palace corridors, feeling as light as a feather. She hadn't felt this elated since she was a teenager. She was in love with Vegeta, and she was confident that he felt the same way. Never had she felt this deeply about anyone, before. She knew this had to be true. For the first time in years, things were finally starting to go right.

As Bulma continued down the hallways, she felt odd. She turned around, but she was alone. She continued, but she still felt that something was off. It was as if she was being watched. However, she was the only person around. She couldn't hear or see anyone around her.

Then, out of nowhere, she was hit in the back of the head. She let out a cry, and grabbed the back of her neck. She looked around, trying to find the culprit. The next thing she knew, she was tossed against the wall.

She heard someone cackling above her. As she tried to get back up, she looked around. "Who's there? If you're trying something funny, I'm not gonna take it, quietly!"

Whoever was laughing just started laughing more. "I never realized you were such a little firecracker!"

Now, she started panicking. She knew that voice all too well. She looked up and saw Dodoria standing above her. He grabbed her tail near the base and pulled on it. She groaned in pain, and fell back to the floor. All the beads and ribbons came crashing to the floor, as he moved it up the furry appendage. She felt completely violated.

"I know you were just a pathetic Earthling, but being a monkey is hardly an improvement. Given that you were so ready to mount that royal brat, I shouldn't be surprised."

She glared up at him. "You going to actually do something, or just monologue me to death?"

Dodoria suddenly grabbed her hair, and brought her up to his face. "Actually, I plan on delivering you to Lord Frieza. He knows all about your little secret, now. He's going to finally be dethroning these monkeys, and there won't be a damn thing you can do about it."

All she could do was spit in his face. He growled and hit her, against the wall, knocking the wind out of her. "You're lucky he wants you in one piece, girl. I would have killed you already, if that weren't the case. Now, let's get you down there."

Just then, he was kicked into the wall. Before Bulma could fall, someone caught her. As she regained sense, she looked up at her rescuer. Her eyes lit up, with relief.

"Piccolo!" she said.

He set her down, and put an arm in front of her. "Get out of the way, kid. This might get messy." She didn't need to be told twice. She stumbled further down the hallway and sat up against a wall.

Dodoria rubbed his head and looked up at his attacker. "Who the heck are you, punk?!" Piccolo didn't say anything, and glared at Dodoria. "Wait, you're a Namek, aren't you? What are you doing all the way out here?" He still didn't respond. "What, are you deaf? Too dumb to speak? Wouldn't surprise me, with your kind."

"Shut the hell up," Piccolo said, in a calm tone.

Dodoria growled. "I'm through playing games, you overgrown slug. It's time we see how strong you actually are."

"Alright, then. Come at me."

Dodoria lunged after him, but Piccolo effortlessly dodged his attacks. He didn't even uncross his arms. This charade went on for several turns until Dodoria was getting frustrated. It was bad enough that a Namek was besting him in a fight, but he was acting so calm and stoic while doing so. He attempted to punch him, but Piccolo easily caught his fist in an iron grip. With a squeeze, Dodoria's hand was broken. Piccolo took his arm, and elbowed the crux of it, instantly breaking it.

Dodoria hobbled back, holding his broken arm and glared at the Namekian. He couldn't believe that a Namekian could be so strong. He thought they were supposed to be weakling pacifists. Where the hell did this one come from?

Piccolo walked up to him, just about finished with their fight. He had better things he could be doing, right about now. He kicked Dodoria in the stomach once, sending him flying into a column. The impact wasn't enough to kill him, but it was enough to knock him out cold.

Bulma sat against the wall, in awe. He took down Dodoria effortlessly. She didn't think he was that strong.

Piccolo walked back over to her, and knelt down in front of her. He pointed a finger in front of her face. "Follow my movement." As he moved his finger around, her eyes followed it without trouble. At least she didn't have a concussion.

She pushed his hand down. "How did you even get here, in time?"

"I was meditating when I felt your energy spike, and I came to see if you were alright. Now get up. You're going back to your room." He grabbed her arm, hoisted her onto her feet, and started dragging her back to the hallway.

"Wait, Piccolo! We can't go back to my room! We have to warn the king about Frieza!"

He almost groaned. He thought he could go for one night without getting wrapped up in the royal family's business. He had to get stuck serving a nuisance magnet. "Fine. We'll go check up on him." He took off down the hallway, and she trailed behind him.

* * *

Vegeta went up to his father's study. When he entered the room, he saw his father looking out of a window. Knowing that is what he wanted him to do, Vegeta walked up to stand beside him. The window overlooked the now quiet city streets. Looking over the streets made the king nostalgic. The Saiyan culture evolved quickly, ever since his family came into power. The sight made him think of something he always took for granted – progress.

Finally, he spoke to his son. "Did I ever tell you how your mother and I met?"

Vegeta wasn't expecting this. He shook his head.

"It was arranged, actually. Your grandfather wanted to negotiate an alliance with another Saiyan tribe, just to the west of here. This was before our family controlled the whole of the planet, mind you. I was like you; I didn't want to go through with it, at first. I was a moody, self-absorbed Saiyan who just wanted to fight and feast, all day. I thought a mate would slow me down. Your mother once told me she felt the same."

A small smile formed on the king's face. "Then, I met a girl, at my coming of age feast. She was lively, charming, and so very beautiful. I couldn't believe such a woman could exist. I swore we talked for hours about our lives and troubles. I didn't make my move yet, though; if I did, there would be no way I'd be able to go through with mating with my betrothed. Despite everything, I didn't want to disappoint my family.

"The next morning, my father told me I was supposed to be meeting my future mate. I still had the girl from the night before on my mind, but I reluctantly went ahead and followed him." The king chuckled. "Imagine my shock when I found out that girl I met at the feast was to be my mate. The look on her face was priceless. The courtship was short, and we were mated by the end of the month."

King Vegeta looked over to his son. "You're wondering why I told you this. I'll be honest with you – I persisted with the law for more reasons than you think. I know you think that love is a weakness. And you're not entirely wrong. However, it can also be an asset; one of the greatest ones you'll ever find. I thought there might be someone out there who would become that asset to you."

Vegeta couldn't believe his father told him this. It was rare for Saiyans to mate for reasons other than procreation. He knew his father cared for his mother, but he didn't know he cared for her that deeply. There was a lot more to this than just traditions. He felt like a bit of a brat, for not trying to listen to him.

"Father," he began. "I rebelled against you because I thought you were being selfish. I understand you now, but I'm not like you. What works for you and your fathers might not work for me, by default. And it's my fault for acting like a brat and not talking this out with you, sooner."

"No, Vegeta: I'm more at fault than you are. I was thinking of you as a prince before I was thinking of you as my son. I agree – we both should have begun discussing this a lot sooner. My son, above all else, I want you to be happy. I know that according to the law, you are supposed to choose your mate by tonight. However, if you don't want to do it just yet, we can put it off until you find someone worthy."

He nodded. Though he had someone worthy in mind, he decided not to rush it. "Thank you, father."

The king patted his shoulder. "Go and rest. We can discuss the arrangements more, in the morning."

Vegeta nodded to his father and left the room. Bulma was right – there was a lot more that needed to be said between them. They should have talked this out a lot, sooner; it would have saved him a lot of screaming tantrums. Despite everything, Vegeta wanted to work everything out with his father. At least now that they've laid out their differences, they had an opening to do so.

He was almost back at his room. Just then, he felt his father's energy spike, suddenly. Just as quickly, it started fading away. Immediately, he took off running. As he raced down the hallway, the energy was getting dimmer and dimmer.

He looked up. "Screw this!" He raised his palm to the ceiling and blasted a hole almost through the roof. He flew up two stories and ran as fast as he could down the hallway.

He nearly broke down the door, when he got there. What he saw made his heart nearly stop.

"FATHER!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for the kiss scene came from a few other fics I've read. It's not a particularly common trope, but I've seen it pop up a few times - the first time I saw it was in Blue Galaxy by Vegito Princess. That and a few other stories say that Saiyans just don't kiss their loved ones. It made sense, to me. Kissing isn't even universal among humans, so why would it be universal with aliens? The kissing scene in the Goku Black arc of DBS came out while I was writing this, and that kind of strengthened that idea a bit. Whatever, I thought it would make for a cute scene, and would make for an interesting piece of Saiyan culture. Nothing too important, but I thought I'd mention something about it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net January 5, 2017

Vegeta could barely comprehend what he was seeing. He saw his father lying on the ground, behind his desk. From underneath, blood was pooling on the floor. He was moaning, in pain, and his eyes were shut tightly.

"Oh Gods, no…"

He ran up to him, and tried to turn him over. He groaned, loudly. A gaping hole was in his abdomen. It looked as if his flesh was clawed off of him. He had bruises, scratches, and burns covering his body. Whatever was left of his armor was in tatters, only barely covering his chest.

Vegeta tore off his cape, folded it into a wad, and pressed it onto the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. He took off one of his gloves with his teeth, placed his hand on his father's head, and tried to give him his energy. Despite this, it was steadily decreasing.

"Dammit, father, you're stronger than this! Fight, for the love of Gods, fight… please…"

As he put more pressure on the wound, his father coughed up a glob of blood, followed by wheezing breaths. As he gained consciousness, Vegeta looked around, frantically, for a scouter. To his luck, there was one lying on the ground, next to the desk chair. He snatched it up, put it to his ear, and yelled into the receiver.

"This is Vegeta! I need doctors in the king's study right now! He's been injured in his stomach! And you better hurry!"

He felt his father move. He lifted a shaky hand to his wrist, and slowly pulled off one of his gloves. Before Vegeta could question it, the king used every bit of strength he had left to touch his face. When he looked into his eyes, a genuine smile formed on his face.

Vegeta felt tears weigh down his eyes. "Father…"

"Forgive me… my son. I should have listened to you all those years ago." His speech was interrupted by a series of coughs. Blood continued to fill his mouth.

"N-no, father. Don't speak. Help is on the way. You're going to be fine." Even Vegeta couldn't say those words, convincingly. Deep down, he knew it wasn't true.

He laughed. "Imagine what your mother would say, seeing me like this… maybe I can ask her, in Other World…"

He shut his eyes and silently prayed to every deity he could think of. "Don't talk like that, father. Don't you dare speak like that!"

"V-V-Vegeta, look at me…" He did just that. "I am so proud of you. U-understand that. Then," He coughed, and wheezed in a breath. "Knowing that you know… I can die without-t regrets."

Vegeta shook his head. "Gods, father. I don't deserve your praise. I've done nothing to deserve your praise."

"D-don't doubt yourself, my son-n. Y-You're a stronger and better Saiyan than I e-ever was."

Those words hit him hard, in the chest. Saiyans had their pride, and never admitted that someone was better than they were. Praise and compliments were few and far in-between. When it was given, it was genuine. Vegeta couldn't even think of a moment where his father praised him, personally. He couldn't even speak, from the shock.

His fathers eyes glazed over, and his grip on Vegeta's cheek became weaker. "Take care of yourself... my... son..."

His hand's grip loosened, and the light faded from his eyes. His eyes slid shut, and his body went limp.

Vegeta squeezed his arms tighter. "F-f-father?" He shook him. His bottom lip quivered, and a single tear fell down his cheek. "N-no! You…" No matter how hard he tried to deny it, he knew the truth. His own father was dead. The Saiyan's proud and noble king was lying dead, in his own blood. He was gone, and he was not going to come back. Vegeta gasped, and let out a choked sound. He shut his eyes tightly, and leaned into his father's chest. For the first time in his life, he let go. He sobbed, uncontrollably, and he clung to his father's corpse, tightly.

This was the site that Bulma and Piccolo saw, when they reached the study. Both of them were shocked. She covered her mouth, and stifled a gasp. Her heart dropped. The king was so nice and courteous, to her. She didn't know him for very long, but she knew he was an honorable man. He didn't deserve this fate, at all. Seeing Vegeta cry tore her heart to shreds.

She started to walk towards him, but stopped. She looked back at Piccolo. Knowing what she wanted to do, he nodded. She softly walked behind Vegeta. His sobbing hadn't gotten any better. Gently, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and rocked him back and forth.

He tried to speak, but it came out as a choked sob. She nodded, and whispered comforting words to him. "It's okay, Vegeta. You can let go."

Everyone rushed in, after this. The doctors couldn't believe what they were seeing, looking down and shaking their heads. Their proud king was dead, in a pool of his own blood. They tried to take the king's body away, but Vegeta clung onto it tighter.

"NO!" he yelled. He was acting almost child-like. Through force, they managed to pry his fingers off of his father's corpse. Bulma was still holding him, and tried to calm him down. She petted his hair, and shushed him, softly. As he watched the body being taken out, he closed his eyes and sobbed. The doctors pretended not to notice.

He slowly turned around and leaned his head against her bosom, gripping onto her torn gown. She rocked him back and forth, and rubbed his back up and down. She could feel his heart racing. He was trembling, in her arms.

She sighed. "Where's your room? You need rest."

He shook his head. He looked like he was starting to calm down. "No. There's a room not far from here. It's just down the hallway."

She nodded. She slowly helped him stand on his shaking legs and feet. Piccolo went over and helped him gain his balance, as well. The trio walked silently through the thankfully empty hallway.

"The kingdom will know about everything, by the morning. They'll probably begin the preparations." Vegeta pointed at a door. Piccolo went over, and opened it.

Bulma led him, inside. "Preparations for what?"

He pushed her off of him gently, and he sat on the edge of the bed. He sighed. "For the coronation: my coronation."

"So soon? You're only barely of age."

"That doesn't matter. Our people are vulnerable, without a leader. And I won't abandon them, now." He said nothing else – he just stared at the floor.

Bulma looked at Piccolo, silently asking him to give them privacy. He grunted, and disappeared.

She sat down beside him, and took one of his hands. "My dad always told me to take things one day, at a time, and to savor each day. Tomorrow isn't guaranteed, and we need to make the most out of everything. Who knows what's going to happen, tomorrow? We just need to live through today."

He scoffed. "He sounds like an optimistic fool."

"Maybe he is, but we don't have any other way to think of things. If you have any ways, I'd be glad to hear them." His silence was telling. She sighed. She was keeping him from resting. "Just get some sleep, Vegeta. We're all going to need it."

Before she could stand up, he grasped her wrist. "Stay with me."

It was more of a demand than a request, but she was still shocked. This was so unlike him. "Are you sure?" As if he was afraid she'd reject him, he tightened his hold on her. She nodded. "Okay."

They lied in bed, together. She laid her head against his chest, covered by his blue spandex, and he pulled her close to him. The sheets were pulled tightly over them, as they fell asleep. Vegeta let his thoughts wander, as he dozed off. The future was uncertain, to be sure. Could he be a good king? He didn't know the first thing about delegacy or ruling. When push came to shove, could he answer the call and protect his people? Would he be able to live up to his family's legacy? So many questions were in the air. One thing was sure: he wouldn't run. He would stand by his people, no matter the enemy. He just prayed that he had the ability and strength to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N
> 
> Sorry for leaving you guys on such a cliff-hanger, last time. Here's an early update, to make up for it!
> 
> In actuality, I am going to be out of town for all of next week, and I'm not bringing my computer with me. So, there won't be a new chapter until the 20th. I decided to go ahead and post it now so that it's one less thing I have to worry about, before leaving.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on January 21, 2017

Vegeta woke up early, the next morning. His mind was foggy, and he had a headache. He tried to sit up, but there was a weight on his chest. He looked down and saw Bulma, sleeping on him. His cheeks heated up, and he lifted the covers, relieved when he saw that they were both fully clothed. Just when he was starting to question things, memories of the night before came back to him.

Crap.

He lifted his freehand to his face. He had let other Saiyans see him in such a pathetic and weak state. Knowing them, he doubted that news wouldn't spread of that. What self-respecting Saiyan warrior clutched onto a corpse, like that?

He blinked back tears that were forming, in his eyes. The time for morning was over. He couldn't afford to be seen as weak. He would be king, and he would have to lead his people through their troubles. He had too much honor to run away, again.

A soft yawn stopped his mulling. Bulma looked up at him, with tired eyes. She looked concerned. "You okay?" He grunted, and looked away.

She shimmied her way up to his level, and pulled his face towards her. "I know it's hard, Vegeta. I've never lost someone that close to me, but I know how painful it can get. You don't have to keep your emotions bottled up, like that; it's not healthy. I know you have a thing with pride and keeping a stoic image, but letting go isn't a bad thing."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's not that..." He sighed. "How am I supposed to do this?"

"I don't know. But I do know that you're not alone in this. You're not a god; you can ask for a bit of help. I'm sure your dad had moments when he couldn't do things, alone. You're going to be just fine, in time. I know it."

She leaned up and gently kissed his jaw. He suppressed a groan, at the sensation. Just with her by his side, he was feeling better.

"Have some faith. No more over-thinking things. Okay?" He nodded.

They stared at each other for several moments. His eyes flickered down to her lips, then back at her eyes. Answering his silent request, she leaned in and kissed him. He never would have thought that anything like this would feel so good. He pushed her back onto the bed. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

When he put a hand on her head, she whimpered and pushed him off, slightly. He immediately retracted his hand.

He looked where his hand was. Gently, he placed it on her head, and she hissed. There was a nice-sized bump on her scalp.

His jaw clenched. "You're hurt."

She shook her head. "It's nothing. I can't even feel it."

He rolled off of her and stood up. He looked at her; it probably wasn't appropriate to ask her these questions while on top of her. "Do you know who did it to you?"

She shrugged. "I had kind of a nasty run-in with Dodoria, after the feast. He probably knocked me in the head."

He growled. Of course, that pink blob managed to hurt her, again. He failed to protect her, again.

She stood out of bed and went up to him. He wouldn't be feeling guilty, anymore. "Nothing happened. Piccolo got him, before anything could, so quit worrying so much."

He raised an eyebrow. "Who's Piccolo?"

"What do yo-? Oooh, right. He's Majunior. Piccolo's his real name."

Vegeta was intrigued. "A Namek managed to beat one of Frieza's elite soldiers. What are the chances?"

She nodded. "That's Piccolo, for you. He's the one who made all of this," she gestured to herself, "possible." She sighed and ran her fingers through her bangs. "I should go. Not sure how good it would look on you, if they found us in the same bedroom."

Unfortunately, she was right.

She smiled at him. "Things will get better – just you wait. I'll see you, later." She went to the door, and pressed the button to open it. She looked back at him, and smiled again, before leaving him, alone.

Vegeta sat on the edge of the bed. He ran his hands down his face. Gods, what was he going to do? The reality of the situation was starting to sink in – he was going to be the leader of a nation. Not even just a nation: an entire planet. He never asked for this, but he had no choice. He knew a lot of the council had a negative opinion of him, and thought that he was an unruly brat. How was he going to prove them wrong?

He sighed. "Day at a time…" He stood up, and left the room.

* * *

Word had already spread all over the palace. Everyone was devastated and shocked. They never thought that the king would die so suddenly. The news wasn't public knowledge, yet; they needed to come up with a plan, beforehand. They hoped to announce it, by the evening.

The Saiyan council gathered, early that morning. The council consisted of eight men, paralleling the nine Saiyan gods and goddesses – the ninth member was the king. They commenced the meeting, without the young Vegeta there. Word spread of his outburst, that night; he wasn't in the best mind to be making executive decisions. The meeting was held in a large, dark room, with a table sitting in the middle of it.

Nappa led the meeting. He knew the moment he was proclaimed dead. All of them looked exhausted, but Nappa was particularly so. They had a lot of disagreements, but the old Vegeta was one of his dearest friends. He tried to think of an explanation, but there was none; none that justified the death of the most honorable Saiyan that he knew. He couldn't imagine how hard the prince was taking it. As soon as he was done here, he'd go see how he was.

"Men," Nappa said. "I know we're all exhausted. Gods, I don't think any of us could have seen this coming. But we can't just sit around and mourn, forever. We have to move forward. What are we going to do?"

One Saiyan raised his hand. "We should tighten security. I've seen the body – there's no way that was an accident."

"I agree. We should keep the funeral a private affair, as well. Too many important people will be there; we can't risk an attack."

Nappa nodded. "All in favor of raising security: say aye."

All eight said 'aye'.

"All in favor of a private funeral."

All eight approved, again. So far, so good.

"Alright. Now, what happens, after that? We know that the young Vegeta will be crowned king, as well. What else?"

Someone scoffed. "That brat couldn't rule a farm, much less a kingdom."

Nappa brought a hand to his forehead. He was praying that this wouldn't happen. "It doesn't matter what you think of his qualifications – he's still next in line, for the throne."

"I know that, Nappa. That doesn't mean I can't call out how absurd that is. He throws a fit, the moment something doesn't go his way. Do we really want someone like him making executive decisions and ruling over a nation?"

"I doubt he'd make it, that far. He'll just run away, at the first sign of trouble. Or just train until he drops dead."

Nappa slammed his hands on the table. "That's enough! If you can't get through this meeting without throwing insults, then leave right now. Vegeta watched his father die right in front of him. Of course, he's going to be distressed. Hell, the king was just as torn up and upset when his mate died. How many of us lost friends and family during the wars with the Tuffles? Did any of you not feel any pain?! So don't you dare say that one outburst makes Vegeta incapable of being a good king. He's just as capable as any of us here."

The rest of the council members were stunned into silence. They had never seen Nappa get that worked up over anything outside of battle. They knew he and the prince were close, but they didn't expect him to blow up when someone insulted him. The opposing members decided to wisely keep their mouths shut, after that.

He exhaled. "I knew Vegeta, like he was my own brother. I can guarantee that he'd be saying the same to you. The prince is a good and honorable Saiyan, but he's young. Give him some time on the throne, before you start judging his governing skills. All that we should do is assist him and help make his transition as smooth as possible."

One hesitantly raised his hand. "Should the law about mates be put on hold, for now?"

"I will speak to Vegeta about that, myself, and the old king wanted to do that, as well. Be prepared to do just that."

The meeting continued with minimal arguing. The next day, the king would be buried in the royal crypt. It would have to be minimal, given the time span. By the end of the week, the prince would be coronated. Security in the palace and the surrounding city would be tightened until further notice. Until Vegeta was made king, no one was allowed in or out of the palace without special permission. Any negotiations would be put on hold, as well. Finally, the news would be made public, that afternoon. All they could do is wait until then.

* * *

Vegeta was called to the morgue, a few hours later. The autopsy results had just come in, and they wanted him to be the first to hear it. He didn't see the point – he knew his father was dead, already. It was probably just a formality. If he were going to become king, he'd have to get used to those.

He was greeted by one of the doctors. He bowed to him. "Prince Vegeta. Your father was dead before we could get him to the medical ward. We tried to revive him, but nothing worked. He lost too much blood and his vital organs were severely damaged. My deepest condolences, your highness."

Any bit of hope he had was crushed, with those words. He tightened his jaw and nodded. "It confirms what I believed. Have you identified a cause of death?"

"Your highness, we have reason to suspect that he was murdered." He took out some paperwork and handed it to him. Vegeta looked through the pages. "As you can see, the old king had a clean medical record – no traces of any conditions that would cause a sudden death. His wounds couldn't have been self-inflicted, either – there were no traces of his own blood on his hands. His stomach wound looked like it was clawed off. We're looking in his study, for possible evidence, but we may have a possible culprit."

One of the coroners went to one of the counters, and grabbed a small bottle. He handed it to the one speaking to Vegeta to show it to him. "While inspecting the body, we found this in his abdomen – a small piece of a nail. We took a bit of skin stuck to it, and performed a DNA test. Our results didn't match any Saiyan; it was distinctly from a Frost Demon."

Vegeta's shock simmered into anger. He growled. "Frieza…"

"We went to confront him, but he is no longer at the palace. To our knowledge, he had no planned trips. It was as if he and his subordinates packed up and left without saying a word. We cannot say for sure, as there has not been a trial, but it's pretty damning evidence."

That bastard was going to try something. This was what he planned – kill the king and take the throne for the Colds. It was only a matter of time before he acted. They had to be ready, for it. "Is that all?"

"Yes, your highness. We're still working on recovering evidence."

"Continue to do that. One of you, alert the palace of the possible murder. Tell them to consider preparing for an invasion. We can't have this happening, again."

He bowed. Vegeta grunted, and stormed out of the room. The sooner they got through all the formalities and ceremonies, the better. The planet was vulnerable to an invasion. If Frieza went for reinforcements, they'd have to be ready for it.

"Vegeta, wait!"

He stopped halfway down the hall, and turned around, hearing someone running up to him. Raditz was coming in fast.

"What do you want, Raditz? I have more important business to attend to."

"I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. I heard about everything, from some servants. Gods, I'm sorry."

He glared at Raditz. That sounded dangerously close to pity. "What's it to you?"

Raditz sighed. He should have expected that. "Vegeta, I'm not trying anything. I get that you're under a lot of stress and everything, but I don't want you to shut down."

"I'm fine, Raditz. Is that enough for you?"

That was probably the best answer he was going to get, right now. "Fine. Just know that I'm here, if you need someone to rant at."

"Is that so? Remind me to take you up on that, the next time you piss me off."

He chuckled. At least none of this killed his sense of humor. Vegeta started walking down the hall, and he followed. "Where you heading?"

"The auditorium - they're probably ready to make my father's death public. I should be present, for it."

"Did Nappa tell you about it?"

"There are a lot of men gathering, in the room; it'll be any minute now, that they'll address the crowd."

"Oh. Then I should probably head there, too. Good luck, man. You're gonna do great, out there."

Vegeta glanced back at Raditz and nodded, before heading down the hall, alone. Raditz ran off in the other direction, hoping to get a good seat before the audience got too heavy. While thinking about his future king, he smiled, slightly. He had nothing to worry about. he really was taking this well. He was going to make a fine king; he had no doubt about that.

* * *

There was a large auditorium, in the palace. Thousands were lining up from all over, to see the king's big announcement. In the middle of the auditorium was a stage with a podium standing on it. It was used by the Tuffles for large events and shows, but it was repurposed by the Saiyans for special announcements. Music and theater shows were considered frivolous, by a lot of Saiyans. Thousands of Saiyans were gathered, squeezed into the rows of chairs, awaiting the big news. It had been a while, since the large hall was used. The crowd was loud, as they chatted and caught up on their lives.

A hush fell on the crowd, when the council and the prince came onto the stage. They wondered where their beloved king was.

Before Nappa could stand up, Vegeta lifted his hand. "I'll handle this."

He was surprised. "You're sure?" Vegeta nodded, without looking at him. Reluctantly, Nappa agreed, and silently wished him luck.

Vegeta stood before the podium, and pushed down all of his trepidation. "Fellow Saiyans, I regret to inform you that my father, King Vegeta II, died last night." He paused, allowing the information to sink in. The crowd whispered, and he heard some quiet gasps. "We, as a people, have endured through much, over the years. Some of you are old enough to remember the time under the tyranny of the Tuffles. Yet, no matter what, we have prevailed. We continue to prosper and thrive, despite the odds. In our veins runs the blood of a warrior. After each adversary, each battle, and each hardship, we only grow stronger. That strength is multiplied in unity.

"My father was a proud Saiyan warrior and an honorable king. I knew him well; he would not want us to stagnate, without him. I cannot promise the future, nor can I predict what it might hold, for us. That uncertainty might scare some of you, but we cannot let that get to us. I promise to stand by you all through everything that might come to us. If you promise to do the same, then I will protect you with my life."

Vegeta raised his left hand across his chest, and nodded. All of the Saiyans followed his example.

"We are the strongest and most powerful warriors in the universe. Together, we are unstoppable. If you accept it, I am honored and privileged to lead you, as your king."

The room erupted with cheering. Even those in the council who doubted him were impressed. The young Vegeta had a way with words. Vegeta stayed stoic, but he was relieved that the speech went well. Maybe this would go smoother than he thought. He looked up at the balcony seating: Bulma and the Namek were sitting there. She looked surprised and awed, but didn't notice that he was looking at her. She brought her hands up, and started clapping. He stifled a laugh, at her expression.

The hall cleared, and Vegeta could finally breathe. Nappa came up to him and patted him, on his back. "Great job out there. You've got a knack for this kind of stuff." He grunted, in acknowledgement. "The council had a meeting, this morning. Your coronation's going to happen, before the end of the week, and your father's funeral will be tomorrow."

"Good. Make the coronation the day after tomorrow."

Nappa was surprised. "You sure? We can take an extra day to prepare, if you need it."

"No, Nappa. Our people are vulnerable without a king. The sooner we get it over with, the better."

He nodded. "I'll tell the others this, immediately. Anyway, we've decided to put the mating law on hold, for now. I don't know if your father ever got to tell you that he was willing to do that."

"He did. That won't be necessary, though. I already know who my mate will be: no point in delaying the inevitable."

Nappa chuckled. He suspected that would happen. He saw the way he was looking at the princess; he had a feeling there was something about her. "Whatever you want, kiddo. You should go rest up: tomorrow's going to be a long day."

He sighed. "Thank you, Nappa. I'll see you, in the morning."

* * *

Bulma and Piccolo went back to the guest wing, after the big speech. Both of them were sincerely impressed. Vegeta took better to kingship than they anticipated that he would. They didn't think that he had it in him.

She sat on the edge of her bed, and sighed. "At least Vegeta's taking everything better than I thought he would." She ran her fingers through her hair and looked up at Piccolo. "What are we going to do?"

"Not much we can do. The best you can do is just stick by Vegeta through this."

She nodded. "Yeah, I know." She breathed out a laugh. "He seems to have things all right, on his own. You saw him out there: he was incredible. You'd think he was meant for this."

"He knows how to make a speech: that much is true. Surprised he decided not to revive the old king. Would have saved him a lot of chaos."

She was confused. "Revive? What do you mean?"

He paused and looked down at her. "You still have one wish left. You did tell him that I can bring people back to life, right?"

"Well, no. I wasn't really thinking about that, last night."

His eyes widened, completely stunned into silence. "That was one of the first things I told you about. How could you forget about something like that?"

"Look, I'm sorry. I just wanted to help Vegeta get through the night. And others saw the body – it would have looked suspicious if he suddenly came back to life, after being dead."

He groaned. "I suppose so. You at least told him about Frieza, right?"

She didn't say anything. She just looked down, at her feet.

He raised a hand to his forehead. "So, an entire race of people is vulnerable to an invasion from a power-hungry dictator, and you completely forget about that. I'd think that someone who wanted to be a part of the royal family would be more considerate about their politics."

"I'm sorry, Piccolo. I don't know what you want from me. I was just trying to help Vegeta get through all of this!"

"That doesn't matter!" he yelled. She flinched away from him, at his sudden outburst. He closed his eyes and sighed. "My point is you have to start thinking more about the impact of your actions. If you plan on staying with him, then you'll have to start acting more responsibly. You can't chalk everything up to 'it just slipped my mind' or something like that. This isn't something small: an entire nation is at stake."

She put her face in her hands. "I just… I mean…" She raised one of her hands to her forehead, and let out a breathy laugh. "I guess I wasn't thinking about anything like this happening, when I made the wish."

He scoffed, and looked away. She titled her head. "What? What did I do?"

He paused, considering if he should say what he wanted. He groaned and faced her. "An entire nation doesn't have a king, is likely to be invaded, and you're only worried about your wish and your love life. You really are selfish."

Bulma was shocked. Where did this come from? "How dare you! I care plenty about the Saiyans!"

He scoffed. "Oh please. You can't even name half of the people in this palace. They're all just a means to an end, for you – getting you a prince boyfriend. If you cared about the Saiyans, you would have told the king about Frieza the moment you got in here. How many chances did you have, to tell him that? Oh, right: that would have blown your cover."

"You talk like you're blaming me for the king's death! I didn't make Frieza kill him!"

"I never said you did. You have power that most people dream of getting. What do you do with it? You use it to impress a boy you barely know: a boy you lie to for days, and only come clean when he's at his breaking point. Did you even take a moment to consider what he was thinking, after you were taken from him? Wouldn't coming clean early have saved him a lot of pain?"

She was close to crying. "I'm sorry, Piccolo! I don't know what you want me to do! I was alone for so many years, and he was the first person who ever treated me with anything resembling kindness! For three years, I worked in rough conditions for little pay, while everyone else just looked down at me, for being who I was! How dare I cling to someone who's acted kindly, towards me! What do you know about that, Piccolo?! You've spent your life with unlimited power! How could you understand that?!"

"Unlimited power doesn't matter when you're a slave for your entire life!"

His voice bounced off the walls of the room. Bulma couldn't speak, after that bombshell was dropped. She wished that she could take back all of her words. His glare told her otherwise.

"You have one wish left," he spoke in a low voice. "Don't bother me, otherwise." He disappeared.

Bulma stared at the Dragon Ball, in shock. As seconds passed, she tried to will him to come back out, but to no avail. She brought her hand to her chest. His eyes held nothing but contempt, for her. She hadn't felt this low about herself in years. She wanted to apologize; she would beg for his forgiveness, if she had to. But nothing she could say could make up for her words.

She crawled into her bed, letting a few tears fall. These next days were going to be rough.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net January 28, 2018

The palace was somber, that morning. Despite the hope that Vegeta's words gave everyone, they still had to bury their old king – one who was unjustly killed. No one was crying or sobbing, but the air was very still and quiet. Everyone was exhausted, and wanted this day to be done.

Funeral preparations took no time. It would be a simple ceremony, with some words spoken, a prayer, a moment for silence, and then the body would be taken in a casket to the crypt. Vegeta insisted that his father wouldn't want the normal extravagance, in his death; no one who knew him well could argue with that.

Bulma was getting dressed that morning. She didn't feel like she belonged there, but she wanted to be there Vegeta. She borrowed a full-fitting pair of spandex in black; her more revealing pair was inappropriate, for a funeral.

The Dragon Ball was still on the floor – she hadn't moved it since last night. She got on her knees to grab it. When she got close, she lowered her hand and sighed. She deserved to feel this way; she ruined whatever friendship she and Piccolo had. Just apologizing wasn't going to cut it. She stood up, and left for the throne room. She didn't want to be late.

She slipped through the open door – the funeral hadn't started, yet, and the attendants were still congregating. The casket was sitting in the middle of the room. Hesitantly, she approached it. The ashen corpse of the king lied on its back, his hands folded over his stomach. He was dressed in his finest armor, with his medallion hanging over his neck. She lowered her head. She didn't know the king well, but she could tell that he was an honorable man; he didn't deserve to die before his time. A small voice in her head told her that she could have prevented this. A lump formed in her throat, at the thought.

Someone stepped up, beside her. She looked up and saw Nappa, also looking at the king's body. "He was a great man; one of the best I've ever known."

She nodded, biting her lip. "I could see that." She looked around the room. "Where's the prince?"

"He'll come out, once the ceremony begins. It's tradition for the future king to lead the funeral, especially of his father."

She nodded. "I see."

"You should take your place. You'll be sitting with us, in the front."

She gave him a confused look. "Why?"

"It's customary for the king's intended to sit with him during all events."

Her eyes widened. "Intended?"

"He hasn't told you?" She shook her head. A faint smirk formed on his lips. "I probably should let him tell you, but I think he intends on proposing to you, sooner than later. A strong king will need an equally strong-willed queen, beside him."

She felt like she was going to fall over. Queen? She couldn't be a queen. She didn't know the first thing about being a queen. She should have expected that this would happen, but she was hoping for a few more years of being with him before having to worry about being a queen.

That's when it hit her: she was going to be stuck playing a Saiyan for the rest of her life. She'd never get to be herself, again. The horror of her situation started to sink in. What was she going to do?

Vegeta entered the throne room, at that moment. Bulma hid her distress, quickly. Nappa led her to her seat, right next to the throne. As Vegeta approached the center of the room, everyone stood up. Vegeta led the salute, with his left arm over his chest, and those sitting in the pews sat down. He was almost a complete different person, standing in front of everyone. He wasn't the shaking and emotionally distraught boy he was, just a few days ago. If she didn't know otherwise, she'd say that he aged a few years.

"An army is only as good as its leader; a sentiment any Saiyan knows well. There were few greater leaders in our people than my father. Throughout his life, Vegeta II led us out a dark age and into a new age of knowledge and power. He rallied us against our oppressors one last time, and won us victory. In a combined effort with the council and our late queen, he negotiated and discussed treaties and brought our people technology and information. We, as a people, have never been more prosperous than we are now. It is because of his leadership that we stand where we are, now.

"Anyone who knew him will tell you that he was a man of honor. He never pulled any cheap tricks. He never deceived anyone. He always assumed the best, in people. He never pulled punches; he always told it as he saw things. He embodied everything a Saiyan man should be: honorable, just, strong, and proud. Just as Rein led the gods in their hardships, my father led our people through theirs."

Vegeta stepped back, while a priest stepped forward. He stood next to Bulma, not even glancing at her. Everyone in the room lowered their head, as the priest began reciting a prayer in Saiyago. Their native language rolled off the tongue, but Bulma couldn't keep up with it, to translate the meaning. She only picked up on random words, but she gleaned a meaning. Each line was a prayer to each of the nine gods and goddesses, asking for their blessings. She'd ask Vegeta about it, after the ceremony. All in the room nodded, raised their heads, and opened their eyes.

Four soldiers stepped forward, in front of Vegeta. He saluted them, and they returned it, nodding their heads. They closed the casket, and heaved it onto their shoulders. They carried it out of the throne room, in silence. It would be taken down through a tunnel underground to the royal crypt, just outside of the city. Only a select few knew of its location. He would be placed next to the casket of his queen.

The priest spoke, again, in the standard language. "May Eruca guide him to Other World."

"So may it be," all said, at the same time.

Thus, the ceremony was concluded. There was a small reception, outside of the great hall. The throne room cleared, leaving only Vegeta, Bulma, and a few others left.

Bulma turned towards him, and smiled sadly. "Hey. How are you holding up?"

"As well as I could be."

She took his hand. "You were great, last night. Everything's going to be fine; I know it."

He growled. "As long as Frieza's still out there, we won't be. He's planning something: I know it."

"Don't stress yourself over this, so much. You still have another ceremony to get through, tomorrow. If you're going to run yourself ragged over this, at least wait until you're king."

He glanced around the room – no one was paying attention. "Come with me, for a moment. There's something I want to show you," he whispered.

Hesitantly, she agreed. What was this for? "A-Alright."

He led her out of the throne room and into a quiet hallway. It was lit only by candlelight. He was staring intently at her. It was making her uncomfortable.

"Vegeta?"

"Close your eyes."

She slowly nodded, and shut her eyes. She could feel his arms moving by her head. She swallowed, when she felt something cold press against her neck.

"Open them."

She did and she looked down. There was a silver medallion lying from her neck. She picked it up, and turned it. It was engraved with a conch shell. She tilted her head. She suspected that it symbolized something, but she didn't know what.

Gently, he took it from her hands and let it hang freely. He held her hands in his, rubbing them softly. "Bulma," he spoke. Hearing him say her name made her shiver. "You have my trust and my loyalty. I will protect you with my life. I want you to be my mate."

Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Nappa was right. Wasn't he against having to mate so quickly? Something must have changed his mind. This was what she wanted, but… something felt wrong about accepting this. Yet, with his dark eyes staring into hers, she couldn't refuse him.

"I-I… Yes! I will!"

She only had a second to think before he was on her. His lips crashed into hers, pulling her into his arms, tightly. She was helpless, to resist him; she didn't want to resist him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as he lifted her off the ground. Their tails unwound and intertwined, of their own accords. She moaned at the sensations the caresses were making her feel. She nearly fell limp, against him.

He all but tore himself away from her mouth, leaving her breathless. No words were spoken. The only noises filling the air were the hard rasps of their breathing. He leaned in and nuzzled the side of her face.

"Y-You should go," she said. "They might miss you, if you stay away for too long. This… isn't proper."

He looked surprised, but agreed. "Very well, then. I'll see you, tomorrow." He lowered her to the floor, almost reluctantly, and left the way he came.

Bulma collapsed against the wall. What did she get herself into? She just wanted to be with Vegeta; she didn't think about all of the strings attached. She couldn't be a queen. She couldn't rule over a nation. What if they found out her secret? Would they execute her? Would they send her back to Earth? Dear Yemma, Earth. How would she explain all of this to her parents? Would she ever get to see them, again? Could she still go home?

She hit the back of her head against the wall. She was doing exactly what Piccolo accused her of doing. He was right: she was selfish and self-centered. How could she make everything up, to him?

One thing was certain: she couldn't do it, lying against the wall. She slowly stood up, and went back to the guest wing. She'd beg and plead, if that's what it would take. She just didn't want to lose someone she had become so close with.

She entered the room. The lights were off, but the windows were open. As she went further into the room, she felt something smack her, on the back of her head. Before she could yell, something covered her mouth and nose. The more she struggled, the slower her movements got. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and everything went black.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net February 4, 2017

Bulma opened her eyes, slowly. Her vision was dizzy and hazy. She tried to bring up one of her hands to rub her eyes, but it was restrained. She tried the other hand; it was retrained, too. She blinked, to clear her vision. When she looked down, she went pale. She was tied up to something. She tried to power up, but she was shocked, almost knocking her back into unconsciousness. She tried to kick, but both of her legs were strapped down.

She looked around the room. The walls were completely white with one door and no windows. There were no decorations or furniture. She hit her head against the thing she was tied to. She couldn't start panicking. If she could find a way to get her hands free, then she'd have a chance at escaping.

The door opened. She felt relief, when she saw who it was. "Zarbon! Thank goodness! Please, I don't know why I'm here, but you've gotta help me get out." He glanced at her, before looking at her restraints. He looked at one on her arm, and tightened the restraint. "Zarbon?"

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I can't do that."

"What do you mean 'you can't do that'?!"

"I was ordered to keep you here. I cannot disobey that."

His scouter beeped. He pressed the button, to answer it. "Yes?" He paused and glanced at her. "Yes, my lord: she's conscious." His lips pressed into a firm line, as the other speaker continued. "Will do, my lord." He lowered his hand.

She glared at him. He sighed. "You may want to brace yourself: my superior wishes to see you." He spun on his heel, and went for the door. She heard the door lock, as it closed. That's when she noticed – the door locked, from the outside.

Bulma started frantically moving the restrains. She had to get out of there. She couldn't burn the straps of – they were interlaced with something that shocked her, when she used her ki. She thought that they might snap, if she moved around enough. As she moved, she felt her chest become constricted. The more she moved, the tighter the strap around her chest became. When it got hard to breathe, she stopped. Though it was tight, the strap loosened, as seconds passed. She leaned her head back. She was stuck.

She stayed tied up for what felt like hours. She was tired, sore, hungry, and terrified. Every time she heard footsteps go by the door, she tensed. She didn't know what was going to happen, to her; that scared her more than anything else did.

She heard the door's locks open. Each one was individually locked. She grew more anxious, with every loud creek.

Finally, the door opened. She held back a gasp. Frieza was standing, in the doorway. He was wearing a pleasant smile – as if he was in a particularly good mood. One arm was hidden, behind his back. He stepped up to her. The only noise in the room was his feet on the floor.

He grabbed her chin in between his thumb and his pointer. He moved her head up, then down, then to each side. His bottom lip stuck out slightly, as he examined her features. She kept her eyes glued to the wall, not wanting to look at his leering gaze.

"Well, well. Look at you: a regular Saiyan princess. The blue eyes are a bit freakish, but your hair, your tail, your physique: everything looks correct. No wonder you had everyone fooled. Had I not known any different, I wouldn't have noticed."

She bit the inside of her cheek and braced herself; she wouldn't look weak, in front of him. "What do you want?" she said, trying not to let her voice waver.

"That excited to get to the action, are you?" He sighed. "Very well. Let me ask you a few questions. Did you really think that you could keep up this façade forever? It's not a matter of if you were going to slip up, so much as when. And surely, you know of the laws about impersonating a Saiyan elite. The penalty is death. Was all of that worth it just for a boy you barely know?

"I'm sure this has already sunken in, but you would have become queen of an entire nation. You may be assertive and witty, but could you really keep up with a Saiyan royal court? You know, there are dozens of other women who were looking to be in your position. Some of them desperately wanted to become queen. Yet, this no-named princess came in and stole their prize from them. What's to stop them from doing some digging and discovering that this princess was actually a worthless Earthling woman? Nothing would hold them back from acting rash.

"And think about your poor mother and father. You were willing to leave them back on Earth, without any knowledge of what you've become - no goodbyes, no letters, nothing. They'd never know what happened to you. They'd always be left wondering what happened to their precious baby girl. They could only pray that you were somewhere safe and out of harm's way. Anytime the doorbell would ring, they'd hope that it was you, alive and well. The thought of it just breaks my heart."

Her heart dropped. She never considered that. Throughout the years of working on Planet Vegeta, she wanted to be home. She wanted to see her family, again: her father with his cat perched on his shoulder, her mother always smiling and positive, her sister, shoulders deep into her latest romance novel. Her wish was a rash one. His words were starting to sink in – she really was horrible. She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep her tears at bay.

"Yes, love can make you do the craziest things without thinking. I understand that."

She swallowed, and glared at him, through teary eyes. "This can't be the reason you've brought me here. Surely you want to do more than mock me."

A wry smirk formed on his face. "Funny you mention that, Bulma. My plan for planetary domination begins, tomorrow. And you're getting a front row seat for it."

"Why? What do I have to do with anything?"

"Whether you've realized it or not, you've made my plan much easier. I was going to just stage a coup and take over the palace, on my own, but then I acquired an interesting artifact: one that I've waited far too long to obtain. Would you like to guess what it is?"

She just glared at him, raising an eyebrow. She still didn't understand what he wanted with her.

"Nothing? Perhaps this will jog your memory."

He brought his arm in front of him. Her heart dropped and her eyes widened. He was holding the Dragon Ball.

"After leaving Polaris, I discovered that the ball that you obtained was a fake. However, I wasn't foolish enough to think of another plan, should that one fall through. When you first arrived, I didn't think much of you. Then, I discovered how taken the prince was, with you. I had Zarbon and a few of my men spy on you, to see if there was anything of suspicion. They gave me nothing, so I confronted the situation, head on. Still, there was nothing. It wasn't until someone pointed it out to me that I saw through your thin disguise. The wheels in my head started turning, and I put two and two together – you could only get off of that planet through sheer luck… or by magic. I found this little bobble lying in your room.

"So, thank you. I'm one-step closer to my goal of ruling over the galaxy because of you. It would be only customary for you to stand beside me, when it happens."

"Stop it! You already killed their king! Haven't you done enough?"

"Dodoria told you, I see. You won't have to worry about him, again – he's been taken care of, for his failure. As a matter of fact, I haven't. You don't know much about the Saiyans, do you?"

"I know enough to know that you're trying to oppress a group of people who have done nothing, to you."

He laughed. "Such a sense of humor! The Saiyans aren't a race exactly known for their mercy, Bulma. Look around – why do you think there aren't any Tuffles on this planet? What do you think happened to the survivors, after the war?"

"They treated them like slaves!"

"Is that what Vegeta told you? Far from it, actually. They were treated as equals; the only ones who were jailed actually deserved it. Yet, the Saiyans were ungrateful and spoiled monkeys who wanted all of the power for themselves. The rebellion wasn't in retaliation to any mistreatment – they were just entitled. Naturally, the Tuffles still wanted to protect their homeland, so they launched a counter-invasion. Unfortunately, the Saiyan's old king died, and the dead buffoon took his place. Had it not been for the full moon, the Tuffles would have taken their home back.

"Yet, that wasn't enough, for them. The Saiyans, including your beloved's father, wanted every single Tuffle exterminated. The army was ordered to kill them, on sight – a complete and utter genocide. An entire race of people was killed just to keep their power. You can say that this was in the past, but the Saiyans still look down on anyone who isn't one of them. Surely, you understand that well. They're a race of brutish, bestial, and unforgiving people. Bringing them down is simply karma – a kindness, even."

"You're wrong," she said, in a low voice. He looked at her, puzzled. "I don't know how much you know about the Earth, but my kind doesn't have the greatest track record of peace and mercy, either; you could fill up entire libraries with the atrocities we've committed against each other. You're a dirty hypocrite, Frieza. This plan you have isn't for the sake of justice – you're just using this as a way to justify your selfish and cruel actions against an entire race of people."

He looked shocked; he must have been convinced that a little piece of history would change her mind. He snarled and glared at her. "I was going to let you off easy, for bringing me the Dragon Ball – just send you back to Earth and allow you to live your life peacefully and happily. But…" He roughly grabbed her hair. She yelped, and grimaced. "I do not take kindly to being insulted. Know that you brought this fate onto yourself, Earthling." He hit her on the side of her neck, knocking her unconscious.

Frieza stormed out of the room. "Appule!" he yelled.

Appule ran up, and stood at attention. "Sir?"

"Gather the troops and prepare for the invasion. Handle it just as planned. I expect to have it done before dawn."

"Understood, sir!" He ran off.

The plan had already begun. The Saiyans' days were numbered. In just a few hours, they'd be under his control, without any hope for resistance.

With the Dragon Ball in his possession, he was unstoppable.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net February 11, 2017

A large crowd was gathered, in the throne room. Today was the big day – the prince would finally become king. Everyone sat in the pews and seven of the eight council members sat next to the throne, waiting for the coronation. Though the ceremony was only public to a few, the entire kingdom came up to view it, from a large monitor. The prince was already popular with his people, after his speech, and they all wanted to see him crowned. This was the beginning of a new era for the Saiyans.

Vegeta was dressed in his finest armor, with the royal crest printed on his chest plate in gold. Around his neck, he wore the golden Oozaru medallion that Raditz gave him. He stood in a chapel, with shrines dedicated to the nine gods and goddesses. He got down on one knee and lowered his head. He was never very religious, but he found himself praying to the gods often. Today, he needed to speak with them more than ever. His life was about to change forever; he needed all of the strength and guidance that he could.

He prayed to Rein, the king of the gods, for guidance on ruling justly and fairly. He prayed to Taro, the god of war and battle, for strength and power to protect his people. To Sage, the goddess of wisdom and honor, to guide him in ruling wisely and in upholding his Saiyan honor. To Azuki, the goddess of fortune, to bestow good luck on him and his people. To Jicama, the goddess of the moon, to give him the strength of an Oozaru. To Courge, the goddess of victory, to guide him to victory in any future perils that the Saiyans should encounter. To Zucci, the goddess of fertility and family, to help him protect and serve his royal bloodline. To Anise, the god of mercy, to bestow it onto his people for whatever wrongdoings they had done, before. Finally, he prayed to Eruca, the goddess of the dead, one last time to guide his father to Other World safely.

He nodded, and stood up. They were expecting him in the throne room; he had to move now.

He left the chapel, where Nappa was standing outside of the door.

"You ready, Vegeta?"

He sighed. "Let's get this done."

The door to the throne room opened, and everyone stood up. Vegeta walked down the aisle, with his back straight, his shoulders squared, and his eyes forward. His long cape flowed behind him, as he walked Nappa accompanied him, on the way there. As they reached the front of the room, Nappa took his place with the rest of the Saiyan council. Vegeta stood in front of everyone, at attention. He glanced into the crowd and saw Raditz sitting, in the back. He gave him a thumbs up.

One of the councilmen stood forward. He spoke in Saiyago. " _An army is only as good as its leader. We proud warrior race would be nothing without someone to guide us, along the way. Whether he is a proud tribe leader or a king, only a few brave Saiyan men have stepped forward to lead us. That tradition now continues into the younger generation, as for many future ones._ "

The councilman lifted a turquoise and silver medallion hanging on a silver chain from a pedestal. On cue, Vegeta knelt on one knee, putting a hand to his chest.

He spoke in the standard language, again. "This medallion symbolizes our people's continued strength and perseverance. It was passed through each of your fathers. Do you promise to serve and protect our people, as your fathers did before?"

"I will."

"Do you swear to rule over our kind justly, as your fathers did before?"

"I will."

The councilman lifted the medallion over his head, ready to lower it onto his neck. "With this medallion and the power bested in the eight members of the Saiyan royal council, we hereby proclaim our new king to be-"

Before the councilman could finish his sentence, he was shot in the chest by a thin, red energy beam. The medallion landed on the floor and the Saiyan fell backwards.

Everyone looked to the doorway of the throne room. Frieza was standing in the doorway, pointing right where the councilman once stood. He had one hand behind his back and a smug smirk on his face. Panic began to erupt in the palace, and some tried to flee. Before they could, five of Frieza's soldiers blocked their exits, holding loaded rifles at them. The door shut and locked. One Saiyan immediately jumped up to attack him. Frieza didn't even turn his head, when he smacked him into a wall.

Frieza continued to march down the aisle. The councilmen were about to attack, but Vegeta lifted up his hand, telling them to yield. This was his fight, not theirs.

The display caught his attention. "Oh, look at you, Vegeta. You're not the snot-nosed brat I thought you were. You'd do your mother and father proud."

Vegeta was almost shaking, with rage. "If you knew what was best for you, you would have never come back. I'll make you pay for what you've done to us."

He chuckled. "Do calm your temper. Rashness isn't becoming of a king – especially when you're so outclassed. Since I am feeling generous, I'll bargain with you. Submit yourself and your crown to me. In return, your people will be allowed to live on this planet peacefully, and I'll ignore all of our old grievances."

"Fat chance!"

"Very well, then. I suppose I'll have to take an alternate approach."

He turned around to face the crowd. "Greetings, Saiyans. I am Lord Frieza. In just mere moments, I will become your new king. All Saiyans will submit to my rule, or they will perish for their disobedience. The choice is yours, of course, but I cannot see any reason in being so unruly."

He paused, to let the implications sink in. Vegeta growled. He went to attack, but Frieza hit him with his tail, knocking him to the ground. The tiles broke, from the impact. Everyone gasped. The prince was the strongest Saiyan alive; yet, Frieza knocked him around like nothing.

While he was down, he felt something snap, around his neck. He was grabbed by two of Frieza's soldiers, and put on his knees. He tried to escape, but he was shocked by something. He looked down, and saw part of a ki-restrictor around his neck; it was the night at the port all over again. His hands were pulled behind his back, also locked by more ki-restrictors. The soldiers pulled him onto his knees, making him look at Frieza.

"There. Now, we can get this started, proper."

He snarled. "If you think I'll ever submit to you, you've got another thing coming!"

He sighed. "Such frustrating tenacity: I suppose it's to be expected of your kind. Perhaps I should show you what I've acquired, recently; you might be more accommodating to my demands." He yelled at the door "ZARBON!"

Another door opened, and Zarbon marching in. He looked miserable. Vegeta paled in horror when he saw that an unconscious woman was slung over his shoulder. He looked around the room, frantically – Bulma wasn't anywhere, in the pews.

"You really should keep better track of your toys, Vegeta. You neglect them once, and someone else could claim them."

Vegeta's rage boiled over. At the same time, guilt began eating him away. He was so distracted by the coronation that he never thought to check up on her. "Let. Her. Go. Now."

Frieza tsked. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Vegeta. Wouldn't want my little canary to miss out on all the fun, would we?"

Frieza turned back to the crowd. "Now, back to business. It was my intentions to take over, peacefully. However, I've never been one to take no for an answer. For that, you all will be punished. Vegeta, if you aren't going to hand over your throne willingly, I'll have to take it by force."

Vegeta scoffed. "How do you plan on doing that?"

One of the soldiers knocked him on the back of his head with the butt of his gun. "Don't disrespect your new king, monkey!"

"No, no. It's not an unreasonable question. Pay attention: this isn't something you see every day."

He uncurled his wrist, revealing the small orange sphere.

"This is a Dragon Ball. I've searched for this for decades. I suppose it's too much to expect you to know of the legend, but they're able to grant someone any three wishes that they want. I thought it was just a bunch of nonsense until I started hearing about some stories: stories of men who went from rags to riches overnight; women who gain eternal youth and beauty; beings who were able to achieve eternal life. As you can imagine, I couldn't find any logical explanations for this. Well, where logic fails, magic is able to succeed. I searched all over the galaxies for decades, looking for this orb. And now, it's finally in my possession. And I will obtain is true power. This is awfully exciting, isn't it?"

Frieza looked over the horrified crowd and laughed. "I almost want to savor the moment and the looks on your faces, but there's no point in delaying the inevitable. Feast your eyes!"

Without a moment's hesitation, he rubbed the Dragon Ball. The ball glowed a bright orange, and the room was filled with light. Everyone covered their eyes, avoiding the blinding illumination.

Piccolo opened his eyes and looked around. He was certainly confused. He saw the Saiyans gawking in the pews, Vegeta being held down by soldiers, and Frieza standing behind him.

Frieza looked confused as well, but everything clicked for him. "Ahh, I understand, now. I was expecting a dragon, but I suppose a Namekian will do."

He glared at him. "What are you talking about?"

He chuckled. "Oh, I apologize. My name is Frieza and I am your master, now."

He gawked, in disbelief. Then, he noticed the Dragon Ball in his hands – his Dragon Ball. "What the hell?!"

"I don't think any further explanations are needed. Now, are there any provisos I should be aware of?"

He glared at him, and listed off his limitations in a monotonous tone. "I can't kill anyone. I can't force anyone to be anything against their will. I can bring people back from the dead, but one at a time and only if they've been dead for a year. And I can't grant the same wish twice."

"Splendid! Now, grant me my first wish: I wish to rule over all of the Saiyans as King of Planet Vegeta!"

Piccolo snarled. The wish was worded too well for a loophole. He closed his eyes, and nodded.

Suddenly, banners came down in the throne room. They showed a crest more fitting to Frieza: two conjoined fs, surrounded by a white circle. The purple sheets covered the red ones, bearing the Saiyan royal crest. The medallion on the floor rose into the air, unclipped itself, and clasped around Frieza's neck. A long red cape fell from behind Frieza's back, hanging freely from his finer armor, now plated with his royal crest. Vegeta could barely stand to watch this idly, but letting his power loose with the ki-restrictors on would only gravely wound him. The soldiers forced him back onto his knees, while he gritted his teeth.

Frieza looked at his new attire, and down at the medallion hanging off of his neck. "That's more like it. Now, slave," Piccolo grimaced, at the nickname. "I actually have some ideas for my second wish, already."

"Just make it fast: I don't have time for this nonsense."

He chuckled. "A bit impatient are we? Well, I guess it's time for the next part. Zarbon, if you will."

Zarbon nodded, keeping a stoic face. "Sir." Slowly, he crouched to the floor and set Bulma down, gently. Her head fell onto the floor softly, matted by her dark hair.

Piccolo's eyes bulged and his mouth fell agape. "Kid!"

"Ah, now I understand why you were hovering over her. You were her slave, first. She must have been a kind master to you. Well, I think she's rested, long enough. She should see the culmination of her actions."

Suddenly, he kicked her in the stomach. She yelped, and rolled onto her side, instantly awoken by the blow. Before she could remember how she got there, she was grabbed by her tail. She groaned in pain and became limp. As her vision became clearer, she started to panic. When she heard Frieza chuckle, above her, the color drained from her face.

"Now, I hope all of you are paying attention. You might call me a traitor, but I have never tried to deceive you in anyway. The same can't be said for the little princess, lying by my feet. She's not the strong willed Saiyan woman you think she is. She and I have actually done a bit of business, before. She agreed to retrieve the Dragon Ball for me, on Planet Polaris. It took her a couple tries, but she finally did it. As for my second wish…

"Turn Princess Chou back into who she was, before you ever granted her a wish."

Bulma froze. The horror of what she did finally sunk in. She led Frieza to the Dragon Ball. Piccolo had to serve him, against his will. If this was the second wish, then… She managed to look up and saw the Frieza banners hanging on the walls. What had she done? This was all her fault.

She looked up at Piccolo, who looked horrified. She silently pleaded to him, to try and find a way around this. He shut his eyes, and breathed in. "I'm sorry, kid…" he said quietly. He nodded his head.

Her limbs started to feel weaker. She glanced at her arm and saw the definite muscles getting smaller. She tried to summon any energy she could, but it was decreasing rapidly. Her armor fitted her loosely. Her hair faded back to its bright turquoise hue. Her tail shriveled up, hanging off of the small of her back without any feeling.

Bulma looked up. Everyone in the pews was staring at her. They whispered among each other, and looked at her from the corners of her eyes. Some looked shocked. Others looked angered and betrayed. She wanted to hide her face, from the scrutiny. This was exactly what she feared.

Seeing her so mortified was the tipping point. "You bastard!" Vegeta yelled, trying to shake off the guards. If he could get free, then he'd take her and run. He wouldn't even need the ki to do it. No matter how he struggled, he was stuck.

Frieza ignored him, and walked to her side. He pried her off of the floor and stood her up, to look at the crowd. He gripped her arms and presented her to the onlookers. "Saiyans of the court, meet your would-be queen: Bulma of Earth. She thought that you would be foolish enough not to fall for such an obvious ruse. And by the time you all figured it out, your prince would have been too smitten by her to care."

As he continued his speech, Bulma looked down and started crying. She never felt more exposed and humiliated.

Frieza pulled her face towards him, and wiped her tears. "Oh, don't cry, my dear. Seeing you in such agony is painful, for me. Unfortunately, you broke the law. And for that, you must be punished. Just lie back and take it: I'll try to make it short."

Her humiliation became anger. Before he could react, she slapped him across the face with everything she could.

Everyone was surprised. Some people audibly gasped. For an Earthling, she had a lot of spirit. Even the angered and disappointed were impressed. Though he was scared for her safety, Vegeta felt a bit of pride flourish, in his chest. He wouldn't want a woman who would do less, in the face of a tyrant.

Frieza's jaw clenched, and he glared at her. He looked fuming mad. "I'm surprised with you: that actually stung just a bit." He articulated every syllable harshly. "Allow me to return it, tenfold."

He grabbed her chest plate and tore it off her body, leaving her in just a thin-piece of spandex covering her torso. Before she could back away, he clawed at her arm, sinking his sharp nails into the skin. Blood ran down to her hand, flesh and muscles were torn through, and his fingers latched onto her bone. She cried out, in pain, feeling her humerus cracking between his fingers. She tried to tear his hand off of her, but it wouldn't budge. The pain increased agonizingly slow, until she felt her bone break.

Her yells bounced off the walls of the room, chilling everyone to their core. Piccolo couldn't stand to look at it, and closed his eyes. As her wails got louder, he grimaced and barred his teeth, feeling helpless to stop it.

He tossed her onto the floor, and she hit her head on the tiles. She whimpered in pain. She held onto her broken arm with her other hand and tried to back away from him. Frieza's tail smacked her back to the ground, landing her on her stomach. He stepped onto her back, nearly crushing her chest and some of her ribs.

Vegeta was paralyzed, with fear. If Bulma was still a Saiyan, she might have been able to stand this. However, she was so weak and frail. Her screams of pain tore him to shreds. He tried to look away, but one of the soldiers forced him to watch the torture, shoving his head forward.

She breathed heavily, trying to calm herself down. He grabbed onto her shriveled tail and pulled. Her hoarse screams increased, and she tried to gasp for air. The tail tore off of her skin bit by bit. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to brace herself, but the pain was too much for her to handle. Frieza dug his heel into her back and pulled even harder. In one hard rip, her tail was off. The separated stump was dripping with her blood, as she was panting and crying, on the floor.

Frieza threw the limb on the floor, in front of her. The pain and fatigue was starting to get to her. She couldn't even make out what Frieza was saying. Then, she felt something grab onto her hair and smash her face into the tiles, knocking her out cold.

Frieza lifted his foot off of her head, and kicked her away from him. "Get her out of here." One soldier hoisted her over his shoulders, and carried her out of the room.

Vegeta growled, and tried to free himself, again. However, the ki-restrictors shocked him, before he could power-up, enough, making him fall flat on his face. Frieza's solders laughed at him.

Frieza's shadow loomed above him. "Oh, don't worry about her, Vegeta. I've only saved her the fate of seeing what I'm going to do to you."

He stepped on his neck, pinning him to the ground. Frieza looked back over the crowd. He lifted his finger, motioning for one of the cameras to point at him. "As I was saying, before I got sidetracked, you are all under the control of Lord Frieza. Either you bow to me or you follow in your old king's footsteps. I've never taken kindly to disobedience, and I won't make an exception for any of you. In fact, thanks to the insubordination of your foolish prince," Frieza slammed his foot down harder on him, and Vegeta let out a choked groan, "I declare martial law on Planet Vegeta until I know for sure that you will all be faithful subjects. And make no mistake: there will be no tolerance for defiance."

All Hell broke loose. Saiyans began to yell and curse Frieza, promising to make him pay for what he promises. Some looked ready to start attacking him. He looked over his shoulder, at the councilmen. They looked just as angered.

"Let these insects serve as an example."

Frieza looked back at the oncoming Saiyans and bright beams flashed from his eyes. Loud screams echoed throughout the room before being silenced, as they were vaporized into thin air, only leaving a cloud of smoke.

There were rumors of Frieza's true power, and that he could surpass any Saiyan in the universe. Most thought it was just a farce; he was never one to show off or flex his muscles. In one display, he proved all the naysayers wrong.

"There's a new order around here, Saiyans: my order. If you won't bow to me, then perhaps you'll cower, instead."

His harsh cackling echoed in the room, as the others stood paralyzed, with fear. What were they going to do?

* * *

One of the soldiers threw Bulma into a pod, without any care. Frieza said he just wanted her off of the planet – he didn't care about the details. He punched in some random coordinates into the pod, and was ready to launch.

"You there – are you handling the Earthling's departure?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Would you mind if I do it, instead?"

The soldier shrugged. "Knock yourself out, Zarbon." He walked away, without another glance.

Zarbon knelt down in front of the pod, looking at Bulma. He shook his head and sighed. She was braver than he was, for sure. After Dodoria was brutally punished for his failure, he was too afraid to stand against his superior. He normally stuck to his morals, but the threat of death and punishment was too severe.

During Frieza's display of brutality, he decided that enough was enough. He would buy his time, and try to aid the Saiyans in any way that he could. His loyalty wasn't with Frieza, any longer: it was with Vegeta, the rightful king.

The first thing to do was to get his queen somewhere safe.

He gently rearranged her into a more comfortable sitting position, and then reprogrammed the destination coordinates. She would go somewhere safe, to rest and heal while they prepared to attack. After making sure the stasis was working properly, he hit the launch button.

The pod closed and lifted into the air past the planet's atmosphere, before shooting off into another direction in a flash.

Zarbon silently wished her best, as the pod disappeared from his vision. With that, he spun on his heel, and left.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net February 18, 2017

There was a loud beep, and a bright red light came from nowhere.

Bulma blinked her eyes several times. Her head hurt, she was sweaty, and she felt disoriented. She looked around, trying to figure out where she was. There were blinking lights and buttons all around her, and she was sitting in a tight, metal space. There was one window in front of her. She lifted her hand, but she couldn't move her arm without it hurting badly. She hissed in pain and grabbed her arm with the opposite hand.

She looked at the hurting arm and nearly vomited. There were five deep gashes in her upper arm, and dried blood trailed down to her fingers. The areas around the wounds were bruised and the skin looked like it was clawed off. She was still too disoriented to remember how she got there.

She pressed her head against the cool glass of the door, and closed her eyes. She tried to remember the last place she was. As her mind raced, traces of her memory returned to her. She winced. There was so much pain and humiliation, for sure. No wonder she had it blocked out of her mind, when she woke up. Something striped her in front of a crowd. Something broke her arm. Something threw her to the ground. Something pulled on something on her back – an extra appendage, like a tail.

She sat up, with her eyes wide.

What had she done? Frieza was king, now. The Saiyans were completely at his mercy. Piccolo was his slave. How could she have been so careless? She left the Dragon Ball sitting in her room uncovered. This was all her fault. What if he already used his last wish to become immortal? She had to get back there now, and find a way to fix this, before it got any worse.

She opened the coordinate map of the pod. She tried to route a destination, but when she tried to take off, it wouldn't let her; an error popped up every time. She was starting to panic. She couldn't be stuck, now. She hit every button and every command, trying to get it to work.

Then, a message popped up.

"This pod is too damaged to launch."

She screamed and hit her head against the back of her chair. She slammed her hands on the control pad, not caring if she hurt herself. She didn't know where she was and she wasn't able to get back to Planet Vegeta. She let a monster loose. Even worse, she led that monster to power. So many innocent people were going to die because of her ignorance and selfishness. And she couldn't do anything to stop it. With no hope left, she fell forward and cried.

* * *

Bulma's eyes opened; she didn't even remember falling asleep. As she awoke, she felt rejuvenated. Her energy and strength felt restored. She sat back up and looked at her arms. Her left arm didn't look broken, anymore. All of her bruises and burn marks were gone. She touched her head, but didn't feel a bump or a bruise. It didn't even look like she had been injured, in the first place. She looked at the room around her. She was lying on a straw mat in the middle of a blank, white room with one window. She didn't have a clue as to how she got there.

There was a white piece of clothing lying on the ground, next to her. She grabbed it and held it in front of her. It looked like a dress or a robe. It was long-sleeved and had a folded white collar – almost like the one on Piccolo's cape. She quickly slipped it on over her head, and straightened it; all she had on was her torn spandex. She stood up slowly, and walked through a small archway. She needed to figure out where she was.

She peaked around the corner, but no one was there. It looked like she was in a small hut. There was a table in the room, some tools lying in the corner, and a stool sitting under a window. Her bare feet stood on soft dirt. Strangely, it had a blue tint to it.

She walked outside, and her eyes widened, in awe. This place was beautiful. The sky was a gorgeous shade of green. The waters were clear, reflecting the skies perfectly. There were hills and plateaus dotting the horizon. The trees were tall, with blue leaves that matched the grass. She looked back at the hut. It was small, and looked like it was carved out of stone. The windows were covered with a dome of turquoise glass. The place was alien, but it reminded her of Earth.

She heard something pass overhead, and instinctively ran back into the hut. She hit her back against the wall. Quickly, she grabbed one of the tools lying on the ground. Something landed outside, and footsteps were coming close. She didn't know if it was hostile, but she wasn't taking any chances.

A hand held onto the archway, as the person came inside. Bulma dropped the plow she was holding. He looked just like Piccolo. He was older and stouter, but the features were all the same.

He looked down at her. A kind smile formed on his face. "Good, you're awake. You gave my brothers a scare, when they found you in that ship."

She picked herself off the ground, leaning onto the wall. "Where am I? What place is this?"

"You're on Planet Namek. Welcome to our home."

Namek. All her remaining apprehension left, when he told her that. These people were peaceful, if what Vegeta said was right. She smoothed out her robe. "Thank you. I hope I'm not a bother."

He shook his head. "It's no bother, at all. What's your name?"

"Oh. Bulma."

He motioned for her to follow him. "Well then, Bulma; you should see the rest of our village."

"Thank you, uh… sir."

He chuckled. "Call me Moori. Please, follow me."

Bulma followed Moori behind the hut and into the main village. It wasn't very big. There were five houses in a small group, sitting across from a lake. There was a small well in the middle of the village, and a garden just to the right of it. Behind the biggest building, there was a long table with four chairs on each side. Only two other Namekians were there. They sat by the waters and chatted to each other. They glanced at her, before going back to their conversation.

"You'll have to forgive the emptiness. The rest are out farming."

She shook her head. "No, it's lovely. You have a very beautiful home."

Just then, she heard some children running up from behind. She looked behind her and saw two tiny Namekian children playing a game of tag. They jumped over the rocks and boulders, chasing each other. Bulma couldn't even remember the last time she saw anyone this carefree.

Then, a question struck her. "Hey, Moori: do you know how long I was out for?"

"I can't say for sure, but you were only asleep here for a few hours." He pointed at the children. "The children found your pod, and the eldest was able to get it open. I'm not sure how much longer you would have managed to be in there, if that weren't the case."

"Yeah, I was about to ask: how am I healed?"

Moori said something, in another language; she assumed it was their native language. The older child ran up to him. Moori placed a hand on his head and turned back to Bulma. "You have Dende, to thank for that. He's only been practicing healing recently, but he's a very fast learner."

The Namekian child suddenly became sheepish, at the elder's praise.

Bulma knelt down, slightly. "Thanks, Dende. I don't think I'd be alive, if it wasn't for you."

Dende blushed, but smiled up at her. "Thank you, Miss."

Bulma chuckled. These Namekians were being so kind and hospitable, to her. It didn't appear to be for any alternative motives; it was just out of the kindness of their hearts. Looking down at Dende, she wondered if Piccolo was anything like him, when he was that age.

Her heart dropped. The mess she left on Planet Vegeta came back to her, all at once. Her heart rate increased and her expression became horrified.

Moori noticed this. "Bulma, are you alright?"

"I… I'm sorry. I can't stay. Thank you for everything, but I have to leave now." She started to run, but Moori caught up with her.

"Go where? Did something happen?"

Now, she was starting to panic. "It's a long story, but I have to go right now! I don't know how much longer I have."

He held her shoulders, firmly. "Slow down. Just tell us what happened. We might be able to help."

She closed her eyes and sighed. Panicking was not going to get her anywhere. She looked around and saw the other villagers staring at her. She didn't want to explain everything in such a public place. "Is there a place where we can talk, privately?"

Bulma explained everything to Moori, in his home. He couldn't believe all that she had been through. For such a small woman, she had caused a lot of trouble. He didn't agree with some of her actions, but could see that she deeply regretted them. She seemed determined to right her wrongs, as well. However, he doubted that she could do it alone.

"So, I don't know how much time I have left. I don't even know how long it's been, since the takeover happened. By my luck, Frieza's already immortal. Now you can see why I need to get back there ASAP."

He thought, for a moment. "There might be a way to stop him." Bulma looked at the elder, waiting for him to continue. "Go speak with the Grand Elder. If your story checks out with him, then we'll help you in any way we can."

"You… you would do that? Why?"

"We Namekians may prefer to live a life in peace, but we are simply unable to stand idly by when a tyrant is allowed to rule over innocents. Also, if what you said about the Dragon Ball is true, then Planet Namek may be next, in his conquest. The sooner we stop him, the fewer innocents have to suffer at his hands."

Bulma's anger was replaced with determination. "Alright. Where do I find your Grand Elder?"

"Elder?" Dende was standing in the doorway, peaking in. He had listened to their whole conversation. "I can show her. I know the way really well."

Moori smiled at his younger brother. "If you think you're able, Dende, then go right ahead."

Dende nodded. "Follow me, Miss Bulma. It's not too far." Bulma stood up and followed him. "Can you fly?"

She sighed. "Not anymore, probably."

With ease, Dende picked her up and started flying towards the Grand Elder's house.

"So, who is the Grand Elder? Is he like your king, or something?" she asked.

"He gave birth to all the Namekians. Our planet suffered a drought many years ago, and he was the only survivor. He helped restore life on our planet, and he takes good care of all of us."

"Is he powerful?"

"Yes. He's wise, too. In any crisis, we go to him for help."

She nodded. The Grand Elder must have been their Kami. Though she never met Earth's guardian, she knew he was also wise and powerful. She could only imagine what the Grand Elder would be like.

Just under an hour, Bulma and Dende arrived at the Grand Elder's home. It was a large house sitting on top of the tallest plateau on the planet, and surrounded by a large body of water. Dende lowered himself to the ground, and Bulma hopped down, onto her feet. Dende landed, next to her.

"This place is really secluded. Does he get visitors very often?"

"Not really," Dende said. "Mostly, it's for emergencies, like yours."

Before he could explain further, the door to the house opened, literally flying into the air. Out from the house, another Namekian came and approached the two visitors. Bulma's jaw dropped; he looked exactly like Piccolo.

Dende ran up the older Namekian. "Nail! It's good to see you, again!"

Nail nodded. "As with you, Dende. The Grand Elder has been waiting for you two, inside."

Dende went in the open door. Before Nail followed him, Bulma held her hands up. "Wait, how did he know we were coming?"

He looked down at her. The resemblance between him and Piccolo was uncanny, to be sure. However, he didn't have the intimidating presence that Piccolo could have. "He was aware of your presence, when you first landed. It is rare that we receive visitors, and the Grand Elder wishes to know of anyone who comes to our planet."

"I see."

Nail gestured inside. "Enter, please."

She followed him inside. Nail spoke a command, and he and Dende flew into the hole, in the ceiling. Bulma stepped into that space and suddenly floated up, as well.

Nail was on one knee. Dende bowed his head. "Elder, our visitor has arrived with Dende."

Bulma looked up and nearly fell back. A huge Namekian was sitting in a large white chair. His skin was dark and he had wrinkles all over his face. He couldn't even open his eyes, because of them. Yet, despite his size, he wasn't intimidating. There was an aura of kindness and warmth surrounding him.

"Welcome, outsider," the Grand Elder spoke. "You come to us from a planet called Earth, am I correct?"

Bulma looked back at Nail. He nodded. She breathed in and stepped towards the Grand Elder. "That's right. Though, if you'll allow me to cut to the chase, Earth isn't why I'm here. I fear that Planet Vegeta is in grave danger."

Understanding seemed to pass over him. "Ah. The Saiyans were always a formidable race. If something is causing trouble for them, it must be grave, indeed. You seem passionate about helping them, child. Might I ask why?"

"With all due respect, I'm not sure it's going to sound very believable, out loud."

The Grand Elder nodded. "I see. Step up to my side for a moment, here." He pointed to the space next to his gigantic throne. With a little hesitation, she stood up to his side. He gently placed a hand on her head. "Please. Would you allow me to see into your recent past?"

Bulma swallowed her pride and nodded. If she wanted to stop Frieza, her privacy would have to wait.

The elder Namekian concentrated on her past, seeing all that had happened in the last week as if it happened in the blink of an eye. Now, he understood her passion; it was born of guilt, anger, and love. The intentions might not have been completely pure, but that did not make them any less honorable. He lowered his hand. "Yes. I understand, now. You wish to rectify a mistake you believed that you made."

Bulma sighed. "That's exactly it, Grand Elder."

The Grand Elder pondered over something, for a moment. "We will help you in any way we can. You'll fly to Planet Vegeta on one of our spacecrafts. We may even lend our Dragon Balls to your aid, should you need them."

"You would? Why? What do you have to gain from this?"

"Peace of mind, knowing that a tyrant is brought down. As long as he reigns, none of us will be safe."

"I-I don't know what to say. Thank you so much. I don't know how much of a threat I'll be to Frieza, but I'll do whatever it takes to go back there."

"That might be rectified." The Grand Elder turned to Nail, who stood silently behind Bulma during the duration of her visit. "Nail, I have a task I need you to take. Your talents are better used elsewhere, and our Earthling friend needs a teacher. Would you be willing to aid her?"

"I would, Grand Elder."

"Nail is one of the last carrying on the legacy of our people's strongest warrior class. He should prove to be an excellent teacher."

Bulma looked back at Nail and Dende, and smiled. "Thank you all. I don't know what I would have done if you all didn't help me."

"Go now, Bulma," said the Grand Elder. "In a month's time, you'll be strong enough to bring this tyrant to his knees."

"Right!" Bulma was about to run out, but stopped when she remembered something. "Wait! Do you know about every Namekian who's ever lived here?"

"I know all my brothers and children well. Of course."

"Do you know one named Piccolo? He's tall, always wears a turban and a cape, and always looks kind of angry."

"Hmm. I don't know of any that are like that. If something comes to my memory, I'll tell you."

She nodded. She thought that it was worth asking. Though, this raised questions of Piccolo's origins. If the Grand Elder didn't know who he was, then that meant that he wasn't from Namek.

Still, this gave her newfound hope. If the Namekians thought that she had a chance, then that must be true. With that thought, she left the Grand Elder's house, with Dende by her side. There was some last minute planning that needed to take place.

Nail turned to the Grand Elder. "How severe is this threat she speaks of?"

The Grand Elder sighed. "Greater than any we could have possibly imagined, Nail. Even just through her thoughts, I sensed a great evil with unimaginable power. I fear that even our Earthling friend's wit might not be enough to prevail against him."

"The way you're talking, it sounds like suicide. Why send a frail Earthling like that into a war zone?"

The Grand Elder chuckled. "Nail, this one's stubborn. She knows how risky this is. Yet, she insists on going back and facing him. No amount of discouraging would take her off of this path."

Nail nodded. He couldn't disagree. He just hoped he wasn't overestimating her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N:
> 
> Welcome to Act 3! Hooray!
> 
> This part of the story was one I was having the most difficulties with. I didn't know where I wanted to take it, and to be honest, I still don't quite know if this is the best direction for it. However, after what seemed like an endless amount of reworkings and rewritings, I decided to stick with my original plan. It was the simplest and wasn't so complicated to write. The smutfest made me hesitate to post it this week, but I decided to go ahead and do it now.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on February 25, 2017

Bulma was up at the crack of dawn, that morning. She had two weeks left until she was to go back and face Frieza. She hadn't been this dedicated in years. She quickly slipped on a gi, tied her hair up, and left Moori's village, to meet with Nail.

The Grand Elder's words proved to be true – Nail was an excellent instructor. He was patient and understanding, but didn't pull any punches, when the going got rough. He worked her past her limits, but knew just when to stop. The two worked well, together, especially when sparring against the other Namekian warriors. In such a short time, Bulma was getting stronger. After each lesson and each spar, she felt her old strength return to her. Only a little more and she'd be just as strong as she was, before.

Nail was already at the training grounds. She approached him and bowed. "Good morning, Nail."

He returned her bow. "We're going to be doing something different, today. Have you ever heard of image training?"

"No. What's that?"

"Sit, first. This doesn't involve physical combat."

Bulma sighed, in relief. Her leg and arm muscles were getting sore. She sat on the ground, with her legs crossed, and Nail followed suit.

"Image training helps you hone in your techniques without exerting any physical energy. It should prove useful, while you're on your way to Planet Vegeta. It requires perfect concentration and a calm mind. You remember what I taught you about meditation, right?" She nodded. "That's good. Start with that, and we'll take it from there."

Bulma put her hands in her lap and closed her eyes. She concentrated as hard as she could to think of nothing. When it wasn't working fast enough, she clenched her eyes closed, and unconsciously started holding her breath.

"Bulma, stop."

She took a breath and opened her eyes. She brought a hand to her forehead. "This is so hard! I can't clear my mind with a snap of a finger like you can!"

"You're focusing too hard. You have to let it come, naturally."

"How?! When I want to clear my head, I start thinking about a million other things! Is there something wrong with me?!"

Nail set his hand on her shoulder. "Getting frustrated at yourself will get you nowhere. You said the same thing at any of the other techniques I taught you. And you still learned them. It doesn't happen quickly for everyone, Bulma. You can't keep second-guessing yourself at the first sign of conflict. I doubt you'll fair well against Frieza, with that attitude. Now, close your eyes, and try again."

He lowered his hand and sat upright, again. Bulma sighed and did what she was asked.

She focused on her breathing, keeping it deep and low. Slowly, the rest of the world around her began to fade. When she opened her eyes, she was in a void of darkness. She wasn't even sitting on anything.

"What did I tell you?" She turned around and Nail was standing behind her.

She slowly stood up and looked around. "What is this place? And how did you get here?"

"This is your subconscious. I'm projecting myself into your mind through telepathy. In reality, both of us are still sitting on that plateau. This is how the image training works – either you or someone else projects images into your head, and you use those to train. You can't get physically stronger, with this kind of training, but it improves your concentration and helps you hone your techniques."

"So… I can just imagine someone and they'll just be there?"

"Essentially. However, you won't be able to learn that until you're able to hold your own, in this state. With your strong mind, I doubt that will take long."

She was starting to understand the abstract concept. "Okay. So, what now?"

"Now, fight as you normally would. Come at me with everything you've got."

She took a fighting stance. The spar started as normal. She threw a punch near his face, but he moved out of its way. She threw a barrage of punches at him, which he either blocked or dodged.

Bulma heard someone charging an attack behind her. She turned around and saw another Nail there. She jumped out of the way of the bright yellow attack. Before she could hit the ground, she was hit in the back of the head, while the other Nail was throwing his attack.

The two Nails attacked at the same time with punches and kicks. She had no time to question things and started fighting back with everything. It wasn't enough, as they got several decent hits in on her: a chop to the arm, a kick to the gut, and a punch in the face. She staggered backwards, needing to catch her breath.

One phased out of her vision and showed up behind her, with his back to her. Without warning, he turned around and fired an attack in her face. She barely managed to duck her arms over her head.

Bulma fell forward, gasping for air. She looked down and saw that she was back on Planet Namek, clutching the blue grass. Nail opened his eyes, as well.

"That is the very basics. In that state of mind, you're able to bend the rules of reality."

She didn't know where to start. "How the hell did you do that? You just copied yourself!"

"It's an advanced projection. You won't be able to form anything that complete, for a while. I can project multiples of myself, or change myself into another person, if I know their face and mannerisms."

"That's incredible! I can't believe that's possible!"

Nail chuckled. "You still have a lot to learn, Bulma. Now, concentrate and we'll try it again; slower, this time."

She nodded, and closed her eyes.

The image training continued for several hours. One of the suns had already passed, overhead. Bulma wasn't physically worn out, but she still felt exhausted. She never thought she'd find cardio for the brain, but this training was close to what she was thinking of.

She fell onto her back. "Man, I'm exhausted. Please tell me that's it."

Nail nodded. "It is. We'll practice it a bit more, tomorrow, along with some physical training, again."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Good." She groaned as she hoisted herself onto her feet. "Anything else?"

He stopped her, before she could take off running. "There's one more thing. The Grand Elder wishes to speak with you. He says that it's urgent."

She really wanted to go back to Moori's village and rest, but she wasn't going to turn down seeing the Grand Elder. "Alright. Let's go."

Nail grabbed her around her waist, and they flew off. Though her power increased, it wasn't enough to fly for great distances. She couldn't even do a simple Masenko; the one special move that Piccolo taught her. She knew that patience was important, but not being able to do any complex moves was slowly killing her, inside.

They arrived at the Grand Elder's house, and went to greet him. Bulma bowed, as she approached him. "You wanted to speak to me, Grand Elder?"

The Grand Elder nodded. "Yes. You told me that you knew of a Namekian, on Planet Vegeta; one that you were friends with."

She sighed. "I don't think I can call him that, right now, but yeah: Piccolo's his name."

"Sit down; there's a story that might interest you."

Reluctantly, she did so, with her legs crossed. The Grand Elder breathed in, recollecting tales of Namek's past.

_Long ago, Planet Namek was struck by a great drought. Rains ceased; the lakes and rivers dried up; and the plants and animals began to die. The planet's native inhabitants were nearly wiped out. Only a few Namekians remained, to rebuild their species and their home._

_In the midst of this, a sole Namekian child was sent all the way across the stars. He was a gifted one; the son of Katas, one of the most powerful Namekians in their Dragon Clan. His ship landed on a far off planet called Earth, in the middle of some frigid mountains. He had no memory of how he got there, and he spent all of his childhood and adolescence alone. He lived in the ship, waiting for someone to find him; but no one ever did. He eventually gave up hope and left the mountains forever. Though he occasionally went back to check, nothing ever changed._

She blinked. "That's really sad, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Hold your questions; now is the time for listening."

_The Namekian wandered around for years. He found himself as an apprentice to that planet's Guardian. The Guardian was impressed by his ingenuity and intelligence, and wanted him to be his successor. However, the Namekian had seen horrors that he would have never seen: war, bloodshed, and other chaos from all over the world. In order to serve as the Guardian, one had to be pure-hearted, without any bad thoughts. The Namekian worked hard to purge the evil from him. However, the malevolence manifested itself one day, and split the body in half. It created an entirely separate being. This one was pure evil, thriving on chaos and pandemonium. The beings were equal in power, and connected by their life forces; if one died, the other died with them._

_The split created two halves: the pure Kami and the evil Piccolo._

Bulma felt as if her whole world was pulled from underneath her. She sat with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. He had paused, to let the information sink in. "W-what?!" All this time, Piccolo was related to Kami. More than related, they were two halves of the same being. She never thought that it would be possible.

The Grand Elder sighed. "The pain of it all: a Namekian divided by his heritage. If only he were able to find peace within himself. Maybe none of this would have happened…"

He continued with the story.

_The evil Piccolo declared himself as the Demon King, and vowed to take over the Earth. He didn't want power or riches; he just wanted to spread chaos. He birthed mutated offspring, and sent them all over. They were to attack the cities and kill any people living there. Millions were killed, and cities were left in ruin._

_Kami knew he had to stop him, but killing Piccolo would kill him, as well. Being selfless, he decided that the Earth and its people were more important than his life. He found his evil half and they dueled. Though they were equal in power, Kami managed to bring Piccolo to his knees, and stopped his heart. The demon king was dying, and the Earth's guardian was following closely._

_However, in the nick of time, Piccolo sired an heir; one that carried his name and his memories. With his dying breath, he swore vengeance upon his good half; and he would carry it out through his only son._

_The young Piccolo wandered around the wilderness for years. He was quiet, waiting for his strength to reach its full potential. His only goal was defeating Kami; he inherited none of his father's desire for chaos. Kami knew of this, but he would never kill a child, regardless of whose child they were._

_When Piccolo became of age, he flew to Kami's lookout, ready to challenge him, again. He vowed that he would not lose._

_The young Piccolo landed on the lookout. Kami's assistant was watering some plants. He dropped the water bucket, and ran into the lookout, away from him. Piccolo paid him no mind; he was just here, for the Guardian._

_"_ _I know you're here, Kami," he said. "Come out and face me."_

_In a flash, Kami teleported in front of him. He had already gotten older, since they last spoke; he had wrinkles running down his face, his skin was darker, and he held a cane. He glared at him. "Piccolo. After a decade of hiding, you finally come out. When your father swore vengeance on me, I never thought he would have been so persistent as to seek it through his only son"_

_"_ _He has nothing to do with this, old man. I've come to fight you of my own will."_

_"_ _And what will this accomplish, other than your own demise? If you kill me, you die as well."_

_He chuckled. This was going to be too easy; Kami was too old and kind-hearted to be a threat. "I could care less about that. Once you're dealt with, I'll continue on with whatever I want."_

_Kami closed his eyes, and threw his staff on the ground. "I thought that this might be different, but I can see how false I was. You're just like your father. The apple never falls far from the tree._

_"_ _Now, Mr. Popo!"_

_Kami's assistant threw a round rock towards him. Kami caught it without looking, and set it on the ground._

_Before Piccolo could question it, Kami hunched over, with his hands together. As he concentrated, a bright blue aura surrounded his body. As he felt the incredible energy coming from him, Piccolo began to second-guess his strength. Though he looked feeble, his good half possessed an unimaginable amount of energy; and it was still climbing. He took off into the air. It might have been cowardice, but there would be another time to fight._

_Kami was faster and pointed two fingers up, stopping his motion. He threw his hands out, with his palms facing forward._

_"_ _MAFUBA!"_

_A bright green blast extended upwards and trapped Piccolo. Though he struggled, he could not break free. He felt himself stretch and shrink, as he was engulfed by the wave. Kami leaned back, and threw his hands down. The wave hit the sphere, and disappeared._

_The rock's granite texture was replaced by a bright orange sheen. The ball began to glow, and eight stars were engraved onto its face._

_Kami knelt down and rubbed his hand on it. The orb glowed and a bright light shown in front of him. When it dissipated, Piccolo was standing in front of him again._

_He looked down at himself, and then looked up at Kami. He was angry. "What the hell did you do?!"_

_"_ _You may have been powerful, but you were always the weaker half. Never again will you do anyone harm. You will live in this Dragon Ball and serve others just as Shenron does."_

_"_ _I-Impossible! You can't do that!"_

_"_ _I've prepared for this day for several years, Piccolo. I only have one wish – take your Dragon Ball and leave the Earth. I don't care where you go."_

_Piccolo wanted to say something, but held his tongue. He glared at him, but he wasn't affected by it. "You'll regret this one day, Kami." In a flash, he disappeared right before his eyes._

Bulma held her hand to her chest. Everything was clear to her, now. Piccolo never chose it. He was forced into the Dragon Ball because of his father's actions. Maybe King Piccolo truly was evil, but his son should have been judged by his own actions and character. She let out a choked sound. She treated him like a slave. She never once pondered the implications. He was trapped, just like she used to be; and it took her this long to realize that. She felt absolutely vile.

When she found her voice, again, she asked "How did you know about this?"

"I keep an eye on all of my brothers and children; even if they live on far off planets. I reflected on what you told me, and I realized that I did recognize that name. I remembered your description of him and the images from your memory, and figured out the rest from there."

She let out a breath. "This is a lot to take in, Grand Elder."

"I was expecting that. Bulma, you may regret your actions, but understanding what you did wrong is an important step to redeeming yourself. Selfish desires can cloud a rational mind; no one is exempt from this. However, it is important to recognize that selfishness, and not let it control your actions. From what I recall, you still have one wish left. I won't tell you how to use it, but use it wisely, child; one act of kindness may be all that you need."

She nodded. She knew that now, more than ever. She couldn't think of herself, anymore; not in a situation like this. Too much was at stake; the whole universe was possibly at stake. She would bring down Frieza for the sake of the Saiyans, and use her last wish for Piccolo's sake. She owed it to everyone to stop putting herself first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N:
> 
> Another week, another new chapter! Hope you all have been doing well. Quick warning: I mess with lore and story a lot in this chapter. If you weren't annoyed by the changes I've made in previous chapters, then you'll probably be okay, here. This is part of the reason I went with the direction I did - I felt that this was the most plausible way for this information to be revealed.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net March 4, 2017

Two weeks came and went in the blink of an eye. After a month of training and preparation, Bulma was as ready as she could ever be.

Word had long since spread across Planet Namek about her and her plan to rebel against Frieza. While they did not want to be idle bystanders while any injustice was happening, they feared the outcome of their involvement. They had heard stories of the Colds; that family was one of the most ruthless and unforgiving in the entire galaxy. They had ignored Namek and left them alone for many years. What consequences would come, if they found out that they aided in a rebellion against one of them? And if Frieza were anything like the rest of them, then taking him down would not be an easy task. The pacifistic Namekians weren't willing to send an Earthling girl to her deathbed.

The six village elders gathered, to discuss this with each other. Moori insisted that she be allowed to fight, but the others were not so eager.

"She's so young," one of them explained. "I'm not sure if my conscience will allow me to let her walk into the middle of something like that."

"And if what the Grand Elder told us is true, then this Frieza character is too powerful for even our strongest warriors. If he can crush a race like the Saiyans, what hope does one Earthling girl have?"

"I understand," Moori said. "A part of me was hesitant, as well. However, Bulma has a lot of spirit and spunk. Nothing we could say or do would keep her from wanting to go back; she'd find a way. She's a clever, one as well. She has Nail teaching her and the Grand Elder's support. I don't know how, but there might be a chance, despite the odds."

"What are you saying, Moori?"

"If anyone can find away to take down that tyrant, it's her."

His confidence was contagious. The other Namekian elders became less hesitant about sending her out. They saw how she was becoming stronger and faster on her feet. It was incredible, for how little time she had. In addition, they knew they would have risked their lives to fight Frieza, had it been Planet Namek in peril; only death would have kept them from fighting. They would have been hypocrites, if they stopped her from leaving.

A few Namekians managed to restore one of the old spaceships. Namekians rarely left their home planet, so the ships were left unused for the longest time. Using the coordinates from the broken pod, they estimated that it would carry Bulma back to Planet Vegeta in less than three days.

She didn't want to waste anymore time. By the following morning, she would depart.

* * *

Bulma had one last spar with Nail – with no holding back on either side.

Bulma leaped forward to attack Nail; however, he quickly blocked her oncoming slap with his forearm. She kicked, aiming for his knees, but he quickly jumped out of the way. Now, having the high ground, Nail attacked, stretching his arms out to strike her. Bulma could do little but try to dodge his attacks.

She quickly ran behind him and tried to hit him in his back. However, he saw the attack coming, grabbed her by her arm and threw her across the training field. She landed with one knee on the ground and one foot behind her, quickly getting up to continue attacking. She went right into his face and started throwing punched. He effortlessly blocked them all. After only a few seconds, the fists came at a slower tempo. Nail grabbed both of her fists and threw her backwards. She grunted, when she landed on her rear.

She rushed towards him, with her hand back. She charged an energy attack and was ready to punch him in the face with it. When she came close, he caught her fist and punched her in the stomach, before moving away.

Nail glanced at the sky, and saw that the next sun was about to rise; he needed to end the match quickly. He teleported out of her view, and kicked her in her back, knocking her down with a grunt.

"That's enough. You should be rested, before you leave."

Bulma pushed herself off of the ground, and sat upright. She brushed the dirt off of her gi. "That was a cheap move, and you know it."

"In a battle, there's no such thing as a cheap move; I doubt someone like Frieza will be a fair player." Nail extended his hand down to her, and helped her stand up.

Once they were finished, Bulma and Nail went back to the Grand Elder's home one last time. He had some parting words, for her.

"You've improved greatly in such a short amount of time, Bulma. You have such vast reserves of strength, even for someone of your size and stature."

She laughed and rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah. I guess some of my Saiyan strength was still in there, somewhere. But thank you, for everything you've done to help. I wish there was something I could do, to repay you all."

"Your courage to go up against Frieza is repayment, enough. Please, you don't owe us anymore than that."

She nodded. "I guess I should get going. The sooner I can leave: the better."

Nail approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Good luck to you, Bulma. If you remember what I taught you, then it will serve you well, in battle."

"Wait," the Grand Elder interjected. "There's one last thing I want to give you. Stand up to my side, once more." Bulma approached to the right of the Grand Elder's chair. He gently placed his hand on her head. "Though you have such large reserves of power, little of it has been tapped and freed. Let us see if the floodgates can be opened."

Bulma stood still, anxious from anticipation. Then, it felt like everything around her disappeared. Though she couldn't look up at him, she could tell that the Elder was concentrating on something. Before she could ask, like a lightning, a large wave of power came over her. Once one barrier was broken, all of the others followed. If it weren't for the hand keeping her steady, she would have fallen over.

Once his hand was lowered, Bulma stood in that one spot, still shaking from the experience; the same tingling feeling she had after her second wish was back, but multiplied by ten. She looked down at her hands, noticing a light blue aura surrounding them. She could feel the energy radiating off of her. She couldn't even speak because of the shock; she didn't believe that she really had that much power still hidden inside of her.

Her shock quickly became joy, and she laughed. "I can't believe it! I feel incredible! Thank you so much, Grand Elder!"

The Grand Elder was smiling. "Go now, Bulma: do your best, but remember what is at stake."

"I will!" She jumped through the hole, and ran out the door. Without another thought, she jumped down the cliff, free falling towards the deep waters. Before she could hit the surface, she took off like a bullet, flying fast through the air. The water splashed upwards in a great wave, below her. The wind pushed her hair back, as she raced through the air. She yelled, in ecstasy. She felt completely unstoppable.

Even from far away, the Grand Elder could feel her joy and confidence. It was certainly different from what he felt when she first landed. A smile still tugged on his lips, and he let out a quiet chuckle. She had the spirit to get through anything that Frieza threw at her.

"Nail, how much has she improved?"

Nail glanced down, before looking back up, again. He still wasn't sure if she was ready to take on a battle, alone. "She is stronger, and her skills are more refined. However, I believe the odds are still stacked against her."

"Perhaps not, if she has the aid of others. The stronger our friends; the better chance right has to prevail."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Go forth, Nail: the Earthling needs a strong ally."

This was unexpected. Nail was hesitant to say yes. He had never been off planet in his entire life; his duties to the Grand Elder and to his people were that important, to him. Though he didn't want Bulma to fail, he had to stay by the Grand Elder's side, no matter what. Anything could happen, in his absence. "But I must-"

The Grand Elder sensed his hesitance. "You don't need to worry about me. There's some life in this old body, yet."

He nodded down at him, with a smile on his face. Nail looked up in awe. All of his hesitation seemed to disappear at once. He couldn't deny such a request.

He closed his eyes, and bowed. "As you wish, Grand Elder."

* * *

The ship was parked just outside of Moori's village. Several Namekians were gathered, to see Bulma off. They offered her parting words and wished her well.

Two Namekians came out of the ship, on a platform. It would lower and rise from the bottom of the ship with a spoken command. They jumped off, and walked up to Bulma, from behind. "There's enough food in there to last you the trip there," one of them said, "with a little bit extra, in case of any delays. The vocal commands are working, as well. This thing's just about ready to go, Bulma."

She smiled up at them. "Good." She looked back at the others, and sighed. "Well, I guess I shouldn't put this off, anymore. Thank you all. If it weren't for you guys, I'm not sure I'd even be alive. I don't think I could ever repay you, for all that you've done for me."

"Worry about stopping Frieza, first. Then, we can discuss repayment.," Moori said, jokingly. Truthfully, all of them agreed with the Grand Elder. Defeating Frieza and keeping the galaxy safe was repayment enough.

"Right."

Dende was standing beside Moori. "Be careful out there, Miss Bulma!"

She couldn't make any promises about that, but she didn't want anyone to worry. "I'll try to be."

A strong gust of wind blew in the air. The crowd turned around and saw Nail standing behind them. He made his way through, and the Namekians parted the way for him.

"Nail," Bulma asked. "What are you doing, here?"

"I'm coming with you."

She blinked, and shook her head. "No. I can't ask you to do that. This is something I have to do, alone."

"No, you don't. The stronger your allies, the better chance you have. As long as Frieza prevails, none of us will be safe. I will fight beside you, no matter the odds."

She looked surprised. She never thought that she'd get this kind of help. However, she knew that he was right: she couldn't do this alone. And now, she didn't have to.

She nodded. "Okay. We better get going, then."

Bulma and Nail boarded the ship. She climbed on, as Nail floated and landed on the platform. As they entered the vessels, the crowd of Namekians gave them their best wishes. She waved to the crowd, as the platform rose into the ship.

If Nail was willing to leave the Grand Elder's side for this, then the situation must have been dire. Knowing nothing but peace, they could not imagine the horrors that possibly awaited them, on their journey.

Smoke blew from the thrusters of the ship. Slowly, it ascended, pushing the grasses below it down. In an instant, it took off into the sky, leaving behind a trail of smoke. The ship flew up and up until it broke the atmosphere, shining in the sun's light before disappearing entirely.

All the Namekians could do was pray for them to return safely.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted March 11, 2017

Two days of space travel had passed without any interruptions or delays. With every passing second, the ship was getting closer to Planet Vegeta.

Bulma sat against the wall, with her eyes closed. She was trying to calm herself down, in preparation for this. She didn't know what to expect, with her return. Anything could happen in a month. Maybe the Saiyans managed to overthrow Frieza without her. Her heart dropped; were there even any Saiyans left to overthrow him. She shook her head. She couldn't be pessimistic; it would do nothing but distract her.

"Bulma."

She opened her eyes and saw Nail standing in front of her.

She shook her head. "Sorry. I'm still a little worried about what I'm gonna find, when I get back. I'm a little scared to find out, honestly."

He nodded. "I see. I may not know the whole story, but I know that someone cruel would not be as dedicated in righting their wrongs as you are."

"Yeah, yeah, I know…" She looked down, and sighed.

Nail sat down in front of her, catching her attention. "Bulma, you cannot continue to blame yourself. Doing that breaks your concentration, and makes you more prone to act on your emotions. You'll become irrational, and you won't stand a chance against Frieza without a calm and rational mind."

She laughed. "If I wasn't irrational and emotional, none of this would have happened!" She put her face in her hands. "I'm not like you, Nail. I can't be as calm as you are. You made it look so easy!"

"I have nearly a decade of practice." He paused. "I was like you once." Bulma gave him an odd look, but he lifted his hand. "Please. Let me talk. I was a foolish child – selfish, spoiled, and callous. No one in my clan wanted to deal with me; not that I cared. After discussion, I was sent to the Grand Elder, to be his apprentice. They must have seen something in me, to send me to him, thinking he could make something out of me.

"The Grand Elder might be kind, but he's strict. He never hesitated to tell me when I made a mistake, or when I acted wrong; he wasn't afraid to be a harsh critic, either. I suppose hearing that from the one who saved our race was enough to set me straight. I went back to my clan as a new Namekian in under two years. I took my duties as a warrior more seriously. When the Grand Elder grew too old to perform his duties, I volunteered to be his protector. It was the least I could do to repay him for what he did.

"It still took time for me to change my ways. Change never happens overnight. You're still young, Bulma. No one can expect you to always make wise decisions; nor should you. The only way you learn is through your mistakes. What matters is how you handle it. And you cannot let them define you."

She nodded. She still wasn't convinced by his words, but a part of her needed to hear that.

"Now," he said. "While we're here, we should still train. Remember: keep your mind calm and clear."

* * *

Three days after leaving the comfort and safety of Planet Namek, Bulma and Nail arrived to Planet Vegeta. The ship floated in space. Bulma gazed out of the window, at the red planet in front of her. She hadn't seen it from afar since she first came. She felt a bit nostalgic. That one impulsive decision to work on another planet changed her life forever. The last thing she expected was to get tangled up in the royal family's affairs.

She looked over and saw Nail standing next to her. No: she couldn't get distracted, now. She had to focus on the task, at hand.

"Get strapped in, Nail. We've gotta land this thing."

Bulma sat in the captain's chair, and buckled the safety belt. Nail did the same, in the adjacent seat.

She leaned in towards the voice activator. "Initiate landing sequence now."

The ship began its freefall to the planet's surface. It fell past each layer of its atmosphere. The passengers braced for the impact. The ship's decent slowed, until it landed on the planet's surface with a boom. The vessel shook upon impact, but was completely undamaged.

Bulma stayed seated, as the shaking decreased. She took a deep breath; there was no turning back now. She unbuckled her safety belt, and stepped towards the exit platform. Nail was already standing there, waiting for her. She lifted her head and pushed as much of her trepidation down as she could.

"Piccolo."

The ship's platform lowered to the ground. A gust of hot wind hit her face, as she breathed in the dry air of the planet. They were in the middle of a desert. The plants were scarce, and there weren't any animals. It bereft of almost any signs of life. Yet, the dark red skies and the crimson soil showed that they were in the right place. This was Planet Vegeta – no doubt about that.

They stepped off of the platform. Nail repeated the command, and it rose back into the ship.

Bulma tried to concentrate on the energy. The nearest power that she could sense was a ways away from here. She couldn't sense Frieza from this far, though. At least they weren't in danger of getting caught, all the way out here.

"What's the plan," Nail asked.

She breathed out. "To be honest, I was kind of planning on winging it, before you joined."

"Alright, then. What do you need to do?"

"I just need to get to Piccolo and use my last wish. Once that's done with, we can focus on getting rid of Frieza." She thought. "I should probably find a way back into the palace without bringing anyone's attention."

"I'll take care of that – I can distract them for as long as you need me to. You sneak in and meet with Piccolo, and then we'll take on Frieza, together."

She figured that was their best course of action; they didn't have many resources to play with. "Well, we better get going, then."

She started walking but noticed that Nail wasn't following her. She looked behind her and saw that he was looking up.

"Nail?"

"Bulma, be on your guard. There's something strong heading this way, and I can't tell if they're hostile or not."

She looked surprised and scared. She didn't even notice it. She didn't want to waste any energy fighting someone other than Frieza. Quickly, she took a fighting stance.

A bright stream of light flew through the air with a figure illuminated by it. A whooshing sound filled the air, as the figure came to a graceful halt. He looked down at them, while his hair and cape bellowed, in the wind.

It was Zarbon: that double-crosser. Bulma hadn't forgotten what he had done to her. Suddenly, she wasn't so worried about fighting another person.

Zarbon lowered to the ground and landed on his feet. He looked at Nail with a blank expression, but his eyes suddenly widened when he saw Bulma. He blinked several times, as if to make sure that he wasn't imagining her. She resisted the urge to smirk; she wouldn't be very kind to him, once they were done.

Then, he suddenly dropped onto one knee, lowered his head, and crossed a hand over his chest, shocking her. "It's good to see you well, Queen Bulma."

She was almost speechless. This had to be an act, to get her to trust him, again. "What are you talking about?"

"Regardless of what a wish might say, Vegeta is the true king, and you are his queen. Even Frieza can't change that."

She looked at his suspiciously. This was too theatrical to be genuine; he had to be up to something. "What do you want?"

He stood up. "I picked up some power levels out there. I thought that you might have been Saiyans that we didn't know of. How are you back here?"

If he was looking for Saiyans, then that had to mean he was working for Frieza. Why else would he care? "That's none of your business. I'm here for Frieza; that's all you need to know."

Nail spoke up. "Are you one of his men?"

Zarbon shook his head. "Not any longer. He thinks I'm either a deserter or dead. We fight on the same side, you and I."

"And why should I trust that," Bulma snapped.

He sighed. "I understand your hesitance, but I'm not trying to fool you. I refuse to stand by while Frieza builds an empire on a pile of bones. My loyalty is with the Saiyans, and with you."

"Bulma," Nail said. "I think he's genuine."

She looked up at him. "How can you tell?"

"Nothing's stopping him from knocking you out and taking you right to Frieza. Nothing's stopping him from using that device on his ear to call for backup. And he could have attacked the moment he recognized you."

Damn. All of that sounded logical. "Then why did you assume that we were Saiyans?" If he weren't working for Frieza, when what reason would he have?

"I had to know if there were any more survivors; I hoped to find and aid them before one of Frieza's men got to them."

"Survivors?"

He looked down for a moment, before looking back up at her. "Perhaps it would be better if I just showed you. Follow me."

He began walking to the East. Bulma looked up a Nail. He nodded at her, to reassure her that he'd have her back, if things went wrong.

They followed Zarbon through the harsh and barren desert. The only plants were small shrubs and weeds. The few animals scampered away or dug into the ground, hiding from the travelers. The sun beat down on them harshly, and heat was radiating off the ground, in the distance. They walked through the landscape for what felt like hours.

The heat was starting to take its toll on Bulma. There wasn't any shade for miles – it was a wide and open field of nothing but dirt and sand. Her vision became splotchy, as she treaded along. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she fell backwards. Nail quickly caught her, before she could hit the ground. Zarbon glanced over his shoulder, and ran up to them, as soon as he saw that she passed out. Without hesitation, he took off his cape, and placed it over her head and shoulders.

"We're not very far. We'll get her some water, as soon as we get to the hideout. Can you carry her?" Nail nodded. "Good. The entrance is just up ahead."

They reached a large boulder. Zarbon pushed it out of the way, revealing a hole in the ground.

"The rest of the Saiyans have been hiding underground – it's just about the only place that's safe, for them. Frieza has no idea of this place. It's just a little way down a tunnel."

Nail looked down the hole. His night-vision wasn't the best, but he could make out the tunnel. Mindful of the unconscious woman he was holding, he jumped into the hole and floated to the ground with a quiet thud. Zarbon followed, pulling the rock over top the hole, as well. The tunnel was pitch-black until Zarbon lit up one of his hands with a small ball of energy.

"It's just down this way."

The walk was much more bearable through the cool tunnel, though it was difficult to see much in front of them.

A soft sound came from Bulma. She blinked her eyes open, trying to figure out what happened. She realized quickly that she was being carried. She felt a cloth that was draped over her.

"Bulma," Nail said, with concern. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah. What happened? Where are we?"

"You passed out from the heat," Zarbon explained. He turned around and stopped when he heard her waking up. "We're almost to the hideout. It's just a little ways down the tunnel. Just to be safe, we'll take you to one of our doctors, to check on you."

Bulma put her hand on Nails shoulder, and tried to stand on her feet, again. Her legs were somewhat shaky, but she could stand up straight with no problem. "I'm fine. I won't need that."

Zarbon nodded. "Follow me. It's just up ahead."

They came to what looked like a dead end. Zarbon tapped his knuckles on it and leaned in towards the wall.

"What?" said a muffled voice from the other side.

"It's Zarbon. I found the owners of those two power levels we saw. They're with me, now."

"Are they Saiyans?"

"No, but they're allies – we have a common enemy."

"Who?"

He glanced back at Bulma. "One of them is a Namekian; the other is someone we all know."

In just a few short seconds, the wall moved back before being pushed, to the side. A burly Saiyan man was standing behind it. Her looked at Zarbon, then at Nail, and then down at Bulma. Immediately, his expression hardened. "Why did you bring that piece of trash with you?"

Bulma flinched. She hadn't been called that in a while. A part of her told her that she deserved the name-calling; that didn't make her feel any better.

"Please," Zarbon said. "She's here for the same reason we're here – she wants to help us take down Frieza."

He looked up and down at her, and rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He stepped out of the way and let them enter the dimly lit corridor.

The place was a large, cavernous area completely made of clay and stone. The walls looked like they were dug out by hand, with stone banisters keeping them and the ceiling upright. It was only lit by dimming torches. The Saiyans were scattered all over the corridor. They looked tired and distraught. Some of them were injured. All of them looked like they had seen better days. Bulma's throat tightened and she swallowed.

All eyes were on them, as they entered the room. When they seemingly recognized Bulma, they all gave her the same look of indignation and disgust. All of them were thinking the same thing. Finally, one of them broke the silence.

"Why are you back?"

Everyone waited quietly, for an answer. Bulma looked down before looking back up. Maybe if she told them everything, they'd believe her. "Look… I know I caused you a lot of trouble. I've felt so guilty for it all, and nothing I could ever say or do could make up for what I ended up costing you all – I don't even know what that is, yet. But that doesn't mean that I don't want to try. I want to help you all in whatever way that I can. If you want to continue to hate me, fine. I deserve it. But please let me try to make it up to you all. Let me help you take down Frieza."

There was a pause. Suddenly, everyone started laughing. This wasn't the reaction she expected. As it continued, she heard some choice phrases from the group.

"As if a weakling Earthling could stand a chance against Frieza!"

"Yeah. I'm sure he's quaking in his boots!"

"I never realized your kind was stupid, too!"

Now, she was getting angry. She would put up with a lot of things, but blatant disrespect was not one of them. "No! Don't laugh at me! I'm just trying to help you all!"

She immediately realized how poor her choice of words was. The mob shifted – from amusement to resentment.

"Haven't you done enough, you worthless fraud?!"

"You're the one who got us into all of this crap with your magic!"

"Just go back to wherever you came. We don't need whatever little amount of help that you could offer!"

"We'll take down Frieza without your help!"

The obscenities and insults continued to be thrown at her. It made her feel meek. The worst part was that she agreed with most of what they said. Maybe coming back was a mistake.

"ENOUGH!" yelled a booming voice.

The room became deathly quiet. Bulma looked up and saw Nappa standing in the entryway to another room. He looked angered, as he glared at all of the Saiyans.

"I will not have you insulting our allies."

He stepped down and approached the group. He looked down at Bulma and sighed. "I apologize. That was not the welcome you deserved. And if I hear of anything like this happening again, there will be consequences. Remember that."

"The power levels we caught just a few moments ago were these two," Zarbon said. "They came from the same purpose that we have."

Nail finally spoke up, as well. "Bulma came to Planet Namek wanting to come back here as soon as she landed. She told us of your plight and the tyrant who rules over you. Though our people prefer peace, we cannot stand idly by while innocents are oppressed. We do not wish to be your saviors – we only want to do what is right. Do you understand, now?"

That seemed to shut everyone up. The naysayers wisely kept their opinions to themselves.

"Regardless," Nappa said, "I can see you mean no harm. You should get some water or food in you. After that, we'll brief you on all that's happened, since your absence."

Bulma blinked, and realized that he was talking to her. "T-Thank you, Nappa."

He smirked down at her. "No thanks necessary."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net March 18, 2017

Things seemed to calm down, once Nappa stepped in. Bulma and Nail were given some food and water. Though no one voiced their disdain, the glares didn't stop. She tried not to let it get to her, but she still felt unwanted. Once they were taken care of, Nappa asked to speak with her alone; he thought that she would want to be caught up on all that she missed. They left to discuss everything in a meeting corridor. Zarbon took Nail to meet with some of the other Saiyan warriors, while they talked.

Bulma put her hands on one of the walls. She traced the creases and fingerprints lining the walls. "What is this place?"

"There were a series of unconnected tunnels running under the land," Nappa said. "No one knows how they got here, but we know they were dug by hand. We hid here, during the first war with the Tuffles. We planned our next plan of action far away from the city, where no one would think to look. We thought that they were lost forever, but we found them one night, by pure accident. Frieza doesn't even know of them."

She lowered her hand, when he spoke his name. No matter what she did, she couldn't distract herself from her original goal. She turned around. "Tell me everything. What's happened?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sit down, first." Bulma sat on a clay stool, and waited for him to begin.

"The first night was brutal – no other way I can describe it. I haven't seen that kind of carnage since the war. So many were killed. Either Frieza did it himself or he made one of his subordinates do it, in front of him. I never knew he got off on that kind of violence. The palace was just chaotic. I thought that with the power that he had, Frieza would get a handle on the situation sooner than later. And when he did, we'd all be stuck there. I gathered up as many Saiyans as I could, and we managed to escape that night.

He paused. "A few nights later, a group of twenty stormed the palace. They might have been low-classes, but I never knew who they were. They managed to make it all the way to the throne room, but they underestimated Frieza's strength. He put them all down like dogs.

"That's when the slaughtering began…

She could hear his voice crack, as he continued. "I think Frieza got the idea that if enough Saiyans banded together, they might prove to be trouble, for him. He wouldn't welcome that scenario. Frieza's a lot of things, but when it comes down to it, he isn't careless. He started sending out soldiers to kill Saiyans on sight; even ones that were quiet and complacent. We've been trying to send out parties to find any living Saiyans. We've only found corpses.

"The last of our once thriving race is living in burrows," He scoffed. "If only the Gods could see us, now…"

Bulma was gutted by every sentence. She couldn't believe all of that happened in just a month. She already thought ill of him, but Frieza truly was a monster. What made it worse was that he had no "subjects" to rule over. If they were dead, then he'd have no power over anyone. Did he really hate the Saiyans that much? Was he that bloodthirsty?

"Why," she said. "This doesn't make any sense. He'll have no one to rule over, if he kills all the Saiyans."

"I don't know. Zarbon couldn't even tell you that. He's just a sick bastard – he doesn't care about logic."

She looked down. "What are you trying to do, now?"

"Now? We're waiting for the opportunity to fight back. Maybe when Frieza goes back to Planet Cold, we can retake the palace." He sighed. "We can't just do a direct attack, while Frieza's still there… but I don't think we have the time to be sitting ducks."

"Why can't you wait?"

"Our men are dying. We're running out of medicine and supplies. We're barely able to treat their injuries. The most we can do is give them sedatives to lessen the pain. Zarbon was smuggling some, but some of Frieza's other men were getting suspicious. We need to get proper supplies to heal our sick and wounded.

He looked hesitant: as if he was searching for the right words to say. "Vegeta's still there. We couldn't get to him, when we escaped – Frieza was keeping a close eye on him. He's been there for a month. We need to get to him, before he can do anymore damage to him."

Her heart dropped; she completely forgot about him. She could understand the urgency before, but now she fully understood. Regret flared in her stomach, but she pushed it down as much as she could – now wasn't the time for that. Now was the time for action. "How can Nail and I help?"

"We don't have a plan. There's a meeting tonight, with all the able-bodied fighters; we're gonna figure out what we're gonna do. You and that Namek should sit in."

"I will." She shook her head and sighed. "I'm so sorry… I never wanted this to happen."

"You didn't do anything. Frieza would have attacked with or without that ball. I had my suspicions about him for years. I knew the old king as if he was my brother; something changed about him, when Frieza became his advisor. I never acted on it because he hadn't done anything against us; I regret not doing that, sooner. You were only involved for a week."

"But I still enabled it. I don't care – I just want to help."

He smirked down at her and chuckled. "That's honestly real Saiyan-like, girlie. You sure you're not really one of us?"

Something about his tone warmed her heart. Despite the words from the other Saiyans, it felt nice to be accepted as a part of something. It reminded her that not everyone was so bitter and reactionary. She didn't even know if she should say 'thank you' or not.

He seemed to understand that. "The meeting should start in a few hours. You should go rest." He patted her on the shoulder and left the room.

She left the room, shortly after. As she walked, a small smile formed on her face. Maybe she wasn't as faulty as she thought she was; not when someone like Nappa didn't see that in her.

"Hey, Little Blue!"

She looked up; she'd heard nicknames like that, before, but she didn't recognize the voice. She turned around: Raditz was slumped against the wall, waving at her. He looked terrible. He wasn't wearing any armor and his stomach was bandaged. His eyes were half lidded, but he was still smiling at her. She walked to him. He tried to sit up, but winced before slumping back down again. Instead, she sat down in front of him.

He chuckled, as he looked at her. "Honestly, you're even prettier as an Earthling. Blue is certainly your color."

She rolled her eyes. "I can see that you're fine…"

He let out a loud laugh, before hissing, in pain. "Ah. It hurts to laugh. Don't do that…" He sighed. "Wanted to tell you this, but that slap you gave Frieza, a while ago? It was real gutsy. I think about that, whenever I get pissed about him. Always brings a smile to my face."

She looked up and down at him. "What happened to you?"

He shrugged, attempting to be nonchalant. "Just some lashes. A couple of Frieza's guys found me a couple weeks ago. Was trying to look for survivors. Managed to fight them off, but those whips stung." He hissed, as he put his hand on his side.

She was shocked by how casual he was saying that. "Holy… How are you even alive?"

He lazily hit the inside of his wrist. "Saiyan blood, milady: does wonders for keeping you alive in tough jams." She was still shocked. "Hey, don't worry about me. I've gotten worse in bar fights. No skin off my nose."

She snorted. "But a bit off your back, right?"

He chuckled, before putting a hand on her shoulder. He shook her, slightly. "Good to have you back, Little Blue. I always had faith in you." He leaned in closer to her, to speak at a whisper. "Don't listen to any of these idiots. Have a little bit of trust, in yourself."

She smiled, slightly. "Thanks, Raditz." He smirked and winked at her.

Bulma leaned against the wall. Nappa told her to rest, and she'd do that. This kind of peace wouldn't last much longer; it was the calm before the storm. Soon, she'd be a civilian entering a warzone. She didn't know what to expect and, frankly, didn't want to know, either. This could either turn out fine for most everyone or just make everything worse.

She didn't even want to think about the latter.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net April 8, 2017

The city was almost in complete ruins. It looked like it had been completely abandoned. Trash was scattered throughout the worn cobblestone of the streets. It was deathly quiet, and the only noise came from the wind blowing through the empty buildings. Despite this, the palace remained in pristine condition – not a single stone was broken or cracked.

In the midst of this, a soldier marched up to the main gate; they were dressed in full body spandex, a thick chest plate of armor, and a helmet with an opaque cover. They held their gun over their torso, and walked in a perfect roll-step. There were two soldiers guarding the gate to the palace. They looked at the soldier, then at each other, and then at the soldier, again.

"Halt, soldier."

They planted their feet into the ground, and stood at attention.

"State your rank and number."

"Foot soldier," said a mechanical voice; almost like it was filtered through a voice box. "568951. I come from Planet 436. I'm here to fulfill my draft duties. The corps sent me here for patrol, sir."

"Show me some id." They reached into their armor, and pulled out a thin card. They looked down at it, and inspected it. The image was of a mangled creature with jagged teeth and covered in fur. He appeared to have a hard time taking it seriously. "Take off your helmet."

"Negative. I am unused to this planet's atmosphere. Doing that would kill me, sir."

He looked up and down at the short soldier, again. He handed the id back to them. "Fine. You may continue, soldier."

The soldier saluted before entering the palace doors. As she did, a small wave of relief fell over her. So far, so good; Bulma got past the gates and no one was any wiser.

She continued through the corridors, and took in her surroundings. Apart from the banners and decorations, the palace looked the same. After the walk through the city, she was expecting more disarray. However, it appeared that Frieza was doing a decent job of keeping the palace neat. She shook her head. Why was she giving him credit for something so pointless? She had to focus on the mission.

Bulma was to be an inside man, and get in contact with the allies on the inside. After that was fulfilled and after Frieza left, she had to get the Dragon Ball and get out of the palace before the invasion began. She didn't know how much time she had, but she had to make good use of her time.

Her first step was to find that soldier.

Zarbon gave her a chip to give to someone named Appule – he trusted him enough not to rat the others out to Frieza. She wasn't told of any other instructions after that. Apparently, he would know what to do.

She pressed a button on the side of her helmet, activating the scouter. With a few more clicks, it was pinpointed to his location. He was just up ahead. With a roll step, she continued marching on, weaving her way through the crowds of soldiers.

On her path, she couldn't help but listen to their conversations. The soldiers were talking about new inventions, their work life, or their home planets.

Before she could get too invested, her scouter beeped. It was pointed at a purple man with yellow splotches on his head, arms, and legs. He was sitting around, reading something. Underneath the target was "Appule".

She approached him, still at attention. "Lieutenant Appule," she said.

He looked up, not pleased for being interrupted. "Yeah. What do you want, soldier?"

She pulled out the chip from under her armor. "I have information that I was told to deliver to you, sir."

He waved his hand. "Alright: at ease. Who sent it?"

"It's classified; and would be unwise to mention, in such a public area."

He didn't look convinced, but sighed. "You know what, why not?" He took off his scouter, pressed some buttons on the inside of it, turning off the signal and transmitter. "Okay, give me the chip." She did just that. He pushed it into the device, and put it back onto his ear. He pressed the call button.

" _Appule, this is Zarbon_ ," Immediately, his attention was grabbed. He quickly lowered the volume to the lowest setting. " _I've known you for twenty years, and I would be willing to call you a friend and partner. I've decided to put a lot of trust in you – please don't let me down. This chip will clear, after this recording, so listen carefully._

" _The rebels are ready to attack. The Saiyans and I have put together a plan to overthrow Frieza. Someone is going to come and get Frieza out of the palace. I'll need you to let us in through the escape tunnels – I'll come with twenty men. Nappa will lead the other half in storming the palace. We have to make this quick, before someone has a chance to alert Frieza. If you can find a way to freeze the communication server, that might buy us some time, as well._

" _The soldier giving you this is one of our own, in disguise. Do not ask questions: he wishes to remain anonymous. You need to tell him where Frieza is keeping that orange ball. Once you do that, he'll know what to do. And please help him stay hidden – he's crucial to our success._

" _Frieza cannot know about this – catching him off guard is our only chance. Don't mention this to anyone else until it has begun. I'll brief you on the specifics, when we arrive, but that was all you need to know, for now._

" _Good luck, my friend."_

The transmission cut out.

Appule stood up and faced the 'soldier'. "Follow me. We gotta make this quick."

She nodded. "Affirmative."

"Drop the formalities – you only have to do that around Frieza." He motioned for her to follow him, and he led her out of the room.

"So, you're interested in that little trinket he has, eh? It's a nifty thing to have, I'll give him that. But he hasn't used it since the palace was taken over - kinda makes the thing obsolete, if you ask me. And he wasted it on that little Earth girl, of all things. I'll never understand how he thinks."

Bulma bit her lip, not appreciating being talked about in that manner. She had a suspicion that wasn't the first time, either. "Where is it?"

"He keeps it in the throne room – right next to the big chair. There aren't any guards or security like that."

"That seems foolish."

"That's Frieza, for you – arrogant and confident." He leaned in close to her, his hand covering the side of his face. "You probably shouldn't try to steal it while he's here, though – he can track that thing's location on his scouter – it's got some kind of energy or aura in it."

That made things more difficult. "Where is Frieza?"

"Probably in his office – he had some negotiations scheduled, for today."

Just then, another soldier came running up to him. "Appule, Raspberry wanted to have a word with you about the training sessions."

He rolled his eyes. "Look, just give me a second – I've got a new recruit here."

"He was really insistent about it. I don't think he'll like being kept waiting."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine. I'll be there in a few minutes." He turned back to Bulma. "Can you take everything, from here?"

She nodded. "Affirmative, sir."

"Good luck to you, soldier."

He saluted her, putting his hand up to his head. She responded, the same way, before he left.

Now, the pressure was starting to sink in. Her helmet was starting to feel stuffier that it once was. Her mission to the rebellion was complete – that was the easy part. Now, she had to do what she came back to do. There would be no more excuses, and there was no room for failure.

She walked down the hallway, trying to calm her nerves. Her fingers tapped on the barrel and handle of the pistol. In response, she tightened her hands on it. She couldn't let fear get to her. She had to stay calm and wait for Frieza to get out of there. Worrying wouldn't do her any good.

As she paced, she heard talking coming from inside one of the rooms. It wouldn't have interested her much had she not recognized one of the voices. She suppressed her energy, and leaned against it. She pressed some buttons on her helmet, to increase the volume.

" _Please, our people are dying. We can't stay on our own planet, any longer. We're out of food and water, and we need a better life!_ " She heard sobbing.

" _Now, there, there. No need to get upset. I understand your plight, completely. And I might have a deal for you._ "

" _We're willing to do anything, Frieza. Any bit will help._ "

" _We can work out the specifics on another date, but here's what I had in mind. I will sell you an unoccupied planet – one ripe for farming and raising livestock. I'll give you protection, as well. All I ask for in return is an annual tribute. Sound like a deal?_ "

" _Yes! That's perfect! Thank you, Frieza, my lord! You may have saved our people!_ "

" _Please, don't thank me – it's the least I can do, to help_."

Bulma sneered. Frieza was despicable. He was preying on innocent and desperate people. He gave them a deal that seemed to benefit them, but she had no doubt that he was going to stab them in the back, when they weren't of use to him anymore. The negotiator were genuine, in their pleas; they just wanted to help their people. It was cruel and sick, but she wouldn't expect anything different from that monster.

She felt people come to the door, and she quickly stood at attention, again. The aliens that he was talking to came out, with hopeful smiles and tears in their eyes. It made her feel ill.

A chair scraped on the floor, and Frieza came walking, out as well, not even noticing Bulma standing next to the door. He looked at the pair of aliens, and waved at them, as they continued down the hallway. The corners of his cheeks were turned up, as well. It took every bit of restraint for her not to shoot him in the back of his head.

He shut the door, with the close button, and finally noticed her. His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing, standing about? Do you have something you're supposed to be doing?"

"Negative, my lord."

His eyes widened, and he tilted his head to the side. "Who are you?"

"568951. I come from Planet 436 to help with your cause, my lord." She took out her id, and handed it to him, hoping that he'd stop.

"I don't recall asking for troops from Planet 436. Who authorized your admission?"

"Lieutenant Appule, my lord: he wanted back-up, for the next mission."

He looked more closely at the id. Bulma started to get nervous, but planted herself firmly. She didn't want him to start catching onto the act; it would compromise the mission.

"Take off your helmet."

"Negative, my lord. This planet's atmosphere is not my natural one – I would suffocate."

"Is that right?"

"Affirmative, my lord."

Frieza put a finger on his chin. He titled his head back and forth, as he stared intently at her. She kept her eyes fixed at the wall in front of her. Even if the helmet didn't show her face, he'd probably catch her glancing at him.

"Actually… there might be a position you'd be perfect for." He gave the id back to her. "Report to the detention cells, immediately – tell the guard that I sent you there, personally. If he doubts you, have him call me."

She already didn't like this. "What am I to do, my lord?"

He chuckled. "Eager, are we? I'll leave it up to your imagination. Once you get cleared, the guard will tell you what to do, from there. Is everything clear?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Well, get to it, then. You haven't got all day." Frieza walked away, with his hands behind his back, and his tail swaying casually behind him.

Bulma closed her eyes and tried to feel for any familiar power-levels. She couldn't sense Nail or any of the others, yet – she might have still had time. She'd do whatever Frieza wanted her to do, and then go back to the plan. She was a foot soldier, in his eyes; what kind of mission would he make her do, as such a low-level warrior? She turned on her heel, and marched towards her destination.

She asked a few soldiers where she would find it, and they gave her the direction. She moved further through the palace's corridors all the way to a tall staircase. She was told to go all the way down, until there weren't any more stairs. Leaning slightly against the railing, she made her descent. As she descended, the lights grew dimmer. The marble and metal walls morphed into stone bricks. The steps creaked beneath her feet. Dust and cobwebs were all over the wall. The rest of the palace was so modern, but this looked like something from the Dark Ages. It was eerie, and only made her more anxious. What could be down here?

At the bottom of the staircase, there was a guard standing in front of a large metal door. Not one that opened with a button – this one had a handle and a lock. There was a dim ceiling light at the top of the room, and bright light seeping through the cracks.

The guard cocked a brow at her. "What are you doing here? No one's allowed down here, soldier."

"I come to fill a position – I was sent to be here, sir."

He laughed. "By who? Cui?"

"Via a direct and personal order from Lord Frieza, sir."

His eyes widened. "Oh…," As he looked at her, a smirk formed on his face. "Yeah, I get you – of course he'd choose someone like you. At least I don't have to put on those dumb masks, anymore."

"What am I to do, sir? Lord Frieza never clarified."

"Don't worry, kiddo. You're gonna be fine. You just gotta feed a little prisoner: nothing more, nothing less."

She really didn't like his tone – he was getting awfully excited over a mundane task. "Could you repeat that, sir?"

He pulled out his keys, and sifted through them, casually. "It ain't difficult. There are some tablets on the table – you put it into a cup of water, let it dissolve, funnel it into a syringe, and stick it in his neck." He grabbed onto the correct one, put it through the lock, and pushed the door open. She squinted, at the sudden bright lights.

He gestured inside. "Go on – he won't do you any harm. Just knock on the door, when you're done."

She nodded to him, before marching inside. The door shut loudly behind her, as the gears locked her inside. It was way too quiet and still. As her eyes adjusted, she looked around the room. It was all plated metal, and painted a bright white. The ceiling was one big light, shining down on her. There was one door in front of her, with a grey button on the wall next to it.

The only piece of furniture was a medical table. Rusty syringes, a funnel, a container of water, and opened cases of pills were sitting on top of it. Bulma walked up to the table and picked up the dirty syringe. As she examined it, her hands started to shake. The tip of the needle was clogged with dried blood. Dried water and chunks of the pills were in the barrel. The plunger had long since worn out, moving with a tilt of the syringe.

Had this been going on the entire time she was gone?

She set the syringe back down, and went to the door. She steeled herself, and closed her eyes, pressing the open button.

When she opened her eyes, she almost dropped to her knees.

The prisoner was chained to the floor by all of their limbs. Each cuff was held tightly on his limbs. He was just wearing scraps, and his body was covered in fresh scars, cuts, and bruises. Dried blood was caked onto his skin. His eyes were closed, and his head hung down towards the floor. His breathing was shallow, and she couldn't feel a trace of his energy.

"Vegeta…"

She had to get him out.

She ran back out of the room, not even bothering to close the door behind her. She took off one of her gloves, and charged a ki-attack in her left hand. Her right hand pounded on the back of the door. She heard the rustling of the keys on the other side and the door unlock with a loud click. As soon as it was open, she chucked the ball in his face, blinding him.

He stepped back, yelling in pain and cursing her. He tried to hit the call-button on his scouter, but she chopped him hard in the neck, promptly knocking him out. She shut off the scouter, took his keys, and ran back inside.

She knelt down and gently tugged at the chains, looking for the lock. She moved her hands and fingers up and down, trying to feel for a keyhole. The cuffs on his wrists, ankles, and tail were all bear, and there was not a single lock on the chains, themselves. She gingerly touched the cuff around his neck, and breathed out a sigh of relief when she touched the open keyhole. Unfortunately, it was placed directly under his chin.

Bulma propped his head up, trying not to hurt him, and grabbed the guard's keychain. One by one, she tried each key. As it went on, she was getting more and more distressed. Her palms were sweating, and her helmet was making her feel claustrophobic. Without a care, she tore off her helmet, and threw it across the room. She tore off her gloves, as well.

She touched his bicep, and her panic increased – he was freezing. She snatched the keys, and kept trying each of them. Tears were streaming down her face, and her breathing was becoming erratic. No matter which key she was trying, none of them would fit.

She threw the keys down, and started tugging at the chains; if she couldn't unlock them, then she'd have to break them. Vegeta's body slumped onto her shoulder, and she pulled. But no matter how much force she put into them, they would not break. When she tried to use ki, she felt her palms burn, and dropped them on the floor. She looked down: the chains were glowing blue.

"Dammit!" She put her hand on her head. She breathed in, and closed her eyes. She couldn't let frustration cloud her judgment. There had to be a way. No technology was perfect; something had to be exploitable or faulty. There was always a flaw.

He eyes popped open. She gently set Vegeta back down and ran back into the other room. She grabbed the syringe, pulled out the needle, carefully grabbed another needle, and ran back. She bent the flat end up, and went to the lock around his neck. She stuck it into the hole, and started moving it around. She could feel the springs move, as she twisted the pick, but she calmed herself down – getting excited would screw something up.

She moved the needle up and down the lock, hitting the springs. She put her ear closer to the lock, trying to listen for them. In between the ticks, she could hear Vegeta's heart beating slowly. Every moment in between the drumming was agonizing, and made her move faster. He might not have had much time.

With one tick, the lock opened, and all the cuffs unlocked with a loud click. She gently grabbed the neck brace and pried it open. His neck was red, with a large indent where the brace used to be. She gently rubbed the raw skin, and moved onto the other cuffs – his wrists, ankles, and tail. Still unconscious, he exhaled when his tail's shackle was removed and slumped all of his weight onto her. She nearly fell back, but sat up straight and regained her balance.

How long had he been like this? Nappa said that they didn't see him after the night they escaped – the same day of the takeover. Was he here for the entire month? She could barely feel his energy. She shut her eyes and lowered her head. She wished that he were awake. Even if he teased her for crying or berated her for not coming back sooner, she'd take it; anything to confirm that he was still there. She hated seeing him so lifeless.

Bulma reached over a grabbed her gloves, slipping them back on. She stood up slowly, taking him up with her. She walked out of the room, mindful of the doorways and out of the cell, entirely.

The guard was still knocked out, on the floor. She noticed his helmet and realized that she left hers back in the cell. She couldn't waste any more time. She snatched his helmet off, and pushed it onto her head. This one just had a visor over the eyes – as long as she kept her head down, she wouldn't get recognized.

Carefully, she scooped Vegeta up under his knees, and kept a steady arm on his back. She slowly floated off of the floor and above the stair steps. She wobbled, unused to carrying more than her own weight. She quickly pushed her back against the wall, until she regained her balance. She was not going to risk dropping him. Once she felt confident, she continued her ascent, at a faster speed.

When she came back to the top of the staircase, she heard yelling. She concealed her energy and ducked behind the corner of a wall. The soldiers were dropping their weapons and running around like mad.

"He's a madman!"

"The castle is under attack!"

"Someone warn Lord Frieza!"

This was odd. Why would they be in such a panic?

Her eyes widened, as she felt a familiar power level. Nail was here. The plan was going in motion, already. She should be just hiding and waiting for Frieza to leave. But she couldn't leave Vegeta and hope for the best. But with all this chaos, she was never going to find a safe place for him.

Maybe she could use the chaos to her advantage. No one would notice their scouters going off, when they're just running around and freaking out – using her full power wouldn't attract anyone's attention. She could speed to the medical ward, get him in a healing tank, and lock it so no one else would get to him. Then when the others arrive, they'll be able to handle the rest.

She bent down, and slung him over one of her shoulders. She held his torso and his legs steady. "Just hang on a little longer, Vegeta. I promise I'll get you somewhere safe," she said.

In a flash, ki engulfed her, and she sped off into the hallway at her fastest speed. The force of it nearly blinded her. She raced through the halls, above the heads of all the soldiers. She began to recognize the hallways – the medical ward was just a little ways ahead.

She touched down right in front of with. The hallway was completely barren, and she quickly rushed inside. She ginger put Vegeta down on a gurney, careful with his head. She pushed a cabinet from the wall and barricaded the door with it.

She ran up to the healing tank. She knew how these worked – she had to fix them, before. She changed the settings, altering them specifically for a Saiyan. Any other setting wouldn't do any harm, but this would speed up the progress. The machine beeped, and the door opened with steam and a hush sound.

Bulma lifted the door up all the way. She went back over to the gurney and lifted Vegeta up as she did, before. Gently, she set him down, in a sitting position, and he slumped over. She took the oxygen mask from the tank's wall, and gingerly placed it over his mouth and nose. She looked down at the readings, and saw that the air was flowing perfectly.

At the top of the tank, there were two white sensors. She tugged on them, and placed them on his forehead. The readings showed that his heart rate was normal, but his body temperature was lower than it should have been. She gingerly lifted his shoulders, pushed his back against the wall, making him sit up straight, and pulled the tank's door down.

Five beeps sounded, and the tank began to fill with gel-like liquid, engulfing Vegeta. The machine began to hum, as the liquid was filtering in and out of the tank. Bulma tweaked the settings around, and adjusted them, as the readings continued. His body temperature was increasing. The bloodstains were cleaned, and the raw marks on his neck were fading away, already.

Before she could read the rest of them, something caught her eyes. He was starting to flinch. She leaned in closer to the tank. Bubbles emitted from underneath the mask. Then, he relaxed, and sat still, in the liquid.

She exhaled, and leaned her head against the glass. "I'm sorry," she said. "I never wanted this; any of this. If only I hadn't been so selfish… none of this would have happened." Her bottom lip quivered. Her eyelids grew heavy. "Maybe it would have been better if we never met each other. You deserve a princess: one that can actually match you and keep up with you. Not some weak Earthling fraud…

She sighed. "I promise that I will help you and your people get out of this. I don't know how, but I'll make everything right, again. After that, you won't have to deal with me, anymore. That would be for the best."

She felt two energies spike and fly off into the distance. Frieza was leaving, with Nail. The others would be attacking the palace, soon. She had to get to the Dragon Ball and get out before the chaos started, again. She went back to the table and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. She wanted to make sure no one would come here, while Vegeta was recovering.

She pushed the cabinet away from the door, and pushed the open button. She looked back at him, floating in the healing liquid.

Maybe a part of her would always be in love with him. She might always cherish the short time they spent together. But she just didn't think it was worth it, anymore. Maybe everything working against them was a sign, and she should just take the hint. Even if they did make it out alive, this might have been the last time she ever got to see him.

She sighed, walked out of the doorway, and the door slid closed.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net April 22, 2017

Two soldiers remained on guard, at the front of the palace. Aside from that new recruit earlier, there was nothing worth reporting. Since the night of the ambush, the planet was quiet and work was slow.

"Hey, did you get one of the new blasters? They're pretty good."

"Can't afford 'em, yet: those things cost two months salaries, for me. And I always end up breaking 'em."

"Hmm. You got a point."

Suddenly, one of their scouters beeped. It was picking up a power level heading straight for them. A bright light twinkled in the distance, and a figure came rushing to the gate. The guards quickly put up their guns, anxious of the unexpected visitor.

Nail stopped and landed in front of them, with his hands behind his back.

Anxiety morphed into confusion, and the two guards looked at each other, oddly.

"What the heck do you what?"

"I request an audience with Frieza – I have grievances with him."

One of them snorted. "Get in line, pal. Unless you got an appointment, get lost."

"You would be wise to let me through – my fight is with Frieza, not either of you."

"You think we can't take you, huh? What was that power level – just over 3000? We can take you, punk."

Nail sighed; these types were always so arrogant. "If you think you can..."

He pulled his arm back, and blasted through the doors with a bright yellow ki blast. The door exploded and broke upon impact and the force of it threw the guards away from it. Nail quickly jumped through the smoke and into the palace.

The guards coughed, as they stood up among the rubble. "What the hell?! No one is that powerful to break down the door – it was meant to deflect blasts like that!"

"We have to warn Lord Frieza at once!"

Nail emerged from the other side of the smoke and ran into the palace, searching for the highest energy there. When he rounded a corner, he was confronted by five soldiers. They all shot at him, but he deflected all of their blasts, hitting the walls and grazing their shoulders. The impact of the hits sent them flying backwards, landing on the tile floors hard.

Their guns useless, they threw them on the ground and charged him, head on. The leader sprinted towards him, but Nail kicked him on the stomach, sending him into a wall. He stretched his arm, grabbing one of them by the collar of his armor, pulled him back, and threw him towards the other men. They panicked and tried to run away, but were knocked down by their fellow man.

Nail continued to weave through the palace halls and corridors. He dodged the others attacks, and did away with them quickly, to keep moving. Eventually, the soldiers caught on, and started running from him. He didn't care about any of them – he was only here for Frieza.

A group of soldiers was barricading the entrance to a room. Behind the doors, he felt an enormous energy – one of the highest that he had ever felt. He knew that had to belong to Frieza.

He pulled his hand back, and fired a large ki-blast right at the door. Few managed to dodge it. The others were pushed inside, lying in a pile against the wall. When the smoke cleared, Nail stood up straight and walked inside.

Frieza was sitting on this throne. He didn't look angry – more annoyed and irritated. He was holding a goblet in one hand, and was tilting a bottle of wine in the other. He didn't seem fazed by all of his men being taken down.

He sighed. "Alright, you have my attention: what do you want?"

"I come from Planet Namek. We received a distress signal from your world – I'm here to answer it."

Now, he had his attention. Maybe he would get some info that could lead him to the rebel Saiyans. "Oh, that is rather impressive." He poured the wine into his goblet, and took a sip of it. He set it down on a pedestal next to the throne. Nail quickly took note of it - the Dragon Ball was sitting right next to it. His attention went back to Frieza, once he stood up. "Not your appearance, mind you, but the fact that someone got an SOS out without anyone noticing. You'll simply have to tell me the details."

"No," Nail said, firmly. "We're not delaying this any longer. Your tyranny must be put to an end."

He laughed. "Straight to the point, I see. Well, if you're that eager, then come at me. I'll even let you have the first attack."

He looked up. "I'm sure you don't need me to point this out, but this battleground puts this palace in the middle of the crossfire. It would be unwise to fight here. Let us take our battle elsewhere."

Frieza pondered it, for a moment. "I suppose I don't see the harm." Without looking up, Frieza blasted a hole through the throne room's ceiling. He and Nail stared each other down, as the rubble from above fell on them. "Lead, and I shall follow."

They took off into the air, floating high above the palace. Nail turned around and flew away at a brisk pace. He glanced behind him – Frieza was following him. Now, he had to stall for time until the others were through with their plan. He had a feeling Frieza would get bored quickly, so he had to think of a way to make things interesting. For now, he'd fly him as far away as he could; even if Frieza did catch on, they might have a window to finish their plans.

* * *

Some injured soldiers hobbled through the hallway to the medical ward. When they got there, the door was locked. They pressed the button, and it wouldn't open. Instead, there was a sign pasted on the door that said the following: "Under Renovation" with a sad face underneath it.

They groaned. "Again?!" With nowhere else to go, they hobbled back to their positions.

Just around the corner, someone was listening. Bulma couldn't believe that they bought it; she thought that Frieza's men would be a little less gullible. At least Vegeta would be safe, for now; that was one less thing she had to worry about.

Now, she just had to worry about getting the Dragon Ball.

She rounded a corner, and walked through the halls. This time, she didn't have a mask or a weapon; the only thing cover her face was the visor on her helmet. She just had to look natural, and not get caught. She kept her head forward; keeping it down would make her look suspicious. Maybe she'd get lucky, and no one would notice her.

As she reached the more crowded spaces, she held her breath, and glanced around. They were all minding their own business, not even sparring her a glance. The few that did went back to whatever they were doing before, not even noticing her. So, she continued to weave her way through the crowds.

She wasn't recognizing any of the hallways. She thought that she would remember where it was, but she couldn't find any sign of the throne room. The palace was big, for sure, but she thought that she had seen most of it. She didn't dare ask for help – that would just raise suspicion. Instead, she would deal with hitting dead end after dead end.

The palace corridors were like a maze. She felt like she was walking in circles for hours. She needed some sort of sign or indication to know where she was.

She found herself in a dark corridor. The only light was coming from the end of the hallway, and she could barely see her hand in front of her own face. That wasn't the only odd thing about it. It was faint, but the air smelt of sulfur – like someone had just put out a campfire.

As she walked, she stepped on something. She heard it crack and felt it bend beneath her boot. She stepped back and knelt down, to pick it up. It was a thick and coarse piece of fabric with something embroidered in it. She started running closer to the light, wanting to get a look at it. The image became clearer, as she got into the light.

She felt something else break beneath her feet. Pieces of glass, wood, and canvas were lying beneath her feet. The canvas was impaled, but she could make out the face of a woman on it. She looked at the piece of fabric and saw an embroidered figure on it, surrounded by a golden aura.

Something clicked, as she put two and two together. This was the Grand Hall. She was holding a piece of the history tapestry. That on the ground was one of the portraits of the royal family. As she looked closer, she recognized the face – that was Vegeta's mother. The burning smell must have been left over, from the destruction. It felt almost symbolic of the destruction of the Saiyans' legacy and race. She wasn't surprised. She was barely moved, at this point.

Instead, she felt purpose.

She tucked the tapestry piece into her clothing, and strode out of the hall with deliberate and powerful steps. She knew where she had to go, now. And she wouldn't let anything hold her back

She'd make this right, even if it killed her.

* * *

Zarbon and the Saiyans weaved their way through the hidden tunnels under the palace. Just a month ago, they went through this path away from the palace – away from the danger. Now, they were heading right to the frontlines. The Saiyans pushed their anxiety down. One month of oppression was more than enough; they were more than ready to fight back.

The men rounded a corner, seeing the end of the tunnel just ahead. It led into an empty cell in the old palace dungeons. Appule was leaning against the bars, from the outside He glanced back, when he heard their steps, and turned around. Zarbon made his way to the front of the crowd, and approached him.

"Appule," he said

"Took you all long enough. I've been waiting here since that Namek showed up."

"No one else knows?"

"Just that undercover soldier I met. No one else." He took out a key, and opened the cell door, letting the soldiers back into the palace. "What's your plan?"

"Nappa is leading the other half of us in an attack from the entrance," Zarbon explained. "That will distract most of the soldiers. When they begin filling towards the front of the palace, we attack from the inside. They won't be nearly as powerful, split up like that. We'll divide their forces, and subdue them."

"Making them fight two fronts – smart. And when you're done, then what?"

"We have one more group hiding outside of the city. They're protecting the sick and injured. Once we gain control of the palace, we get them in here to heal them. If we can get enough of them healed before Frieza returns, then we might have enough forces to overpower him."

"And if you fail?"

"We retreat, regroup, and try something else. I've told the Saiyans to grab any stray supplies that they can find throughout the palace. Hopefully, we'll be better off, if we have to go into hiding, again."

Appule looked back, at the others Saiyans. They appeared ready, but something was off about their stances and appearance. He couldn't explain why, so he just ignored it. "What do you need, now?"

Zarbon pulled out a ship from his armor. "A scouter. I need to get in contact with the others."

* * *

Just outside of the cities, the rest of the Saiyans were waiting. The two groups left at the same time, heading in opposite directions. They gave the Namek half an hour to get everything sorted out, before they left. Now, they waited for the right moment to attack.

Nappa was speaking to two Saiyans. "If any soldiers come scouting out here, you do your best to keep everyone alive. I don't care if you have to retreat or leave to stay safe. I want as many of you alive as possible – I don't care how."

"We'll protect them with our lives," one said.

"Don't get carried away with it. Don't let your pride and honor cloud your judgment. Get them to one of the empty buildings – start with the fatally injured. Stay there and don't come out under any circumstances. We will send one of our own to you, when the chaos is through."

Nappa crossed his arm over his chest. The Saiyans nodded and did the same. They turned around and went to the injured.

Another man was floating up slightly, scanning the area with a scouter. He was concentrating hard on one area. Nappa approached him. "What does it look like?"

"I can see four power levels in a row – probably guarding the palace. Each of them has a power level of 3000. No sign of Frieza, anywhere."

"Anything from Zarbon?"

"Not yet, sir."

"Keep your ears open. The moment you hear something, yell for me."

Nappa turned around and rubbed his hand on his head. He looked at the other Saiyans. The two he spoke with were carrying the injured, over their shoulders. The rest of them were sitting down, leaning against a wall. Everyone looked shell-shocked from all of this: staring at nothing, or looking tired and worn. Nappa had seen this, before. This came straight from what he experienced, during the wars with the Tuffles. Before the other group left, he had tried to boost their spirits with some gentle encouragement, but it didn't do much.

He instantly recalled the last battle they had with the Tuffles. They had been fighting for days. The battle was at a stalemate, and the other side was wearing them thin. They were forced to retreat, in their last battle. Their pride and honor were wounded. The old king was not blind to this. In front of everyone, he put aside that and admitted his fears – rare for any proud Saiyan warrior. His words after hit every soldier in that room, and put them back onto their feet. They marched into battle with no fear, and they won.

Maybe a little morale boost was what everyone needed.

"Nappa, sir. It's Zarbon. They're in."

"Give me the scouter."

The Saiyan took it off, and handed it to Nappa. He pressed the call button. "Yes?"

" _Nappa_ ," Zarbon said, " _We're in the dungeons. We're waiting for your attack, now._ "

"Put this on speaker. I want the others to hear this."

" _Alright._ " There was some shuffling noises, and a beep. Nappa waited, looking at the others Saiyans standing around and talking. A hush fell over the crowd, when they realized he was waiting for them.

"Saiyans," he began. "I won't lie about our chances. This is our toughest challenge, yet, against the deadliest opponent that we have ever faced. You might be a little intimidated… or even scared. You're probably trying to hide it, suppress it, or forget about it, lest you look weak. But it is not weak to feel fear. Forget anything you might have been told that says the contrary. All of our ancestors felt fear: when they fought against each other for dominance; when they fought against the cruel and unforgiving wilderness; when they fought against our oppressors. Fear is not weak – it means that we're alive.

"You have to know your fear – that is the only way you can overcome it. We're fighting not just against our oppression, but also against our extinction. This will not be an easy battle; failure is plausible; I refuse to lie about that. But we cannot let trepidation hold us back. Even if we don't win the first time, we'll go right back and fight, again. We'll wear them thin, and fight until there's nothing left in us. Know your fears. Then, look them dead in the eyes and prove that they hold no power over you.

"This is all or nothing. Make our fallen brothers proud. Make the Gods proud. Make yourselves proud."

Cheering erupted amongst the Saiyans; it could be heard from the other end of the scouter. Nappa's words were just the motivation that everyone needed. Morale was restored amongst them, with every word he said. They felt newfound pride in themselves and in their team, ready for any challenge that might come their way.

"Now, let's get out there and take back our home!"


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net June 10, 2017

Nail and Frieza were flying in the red skies further and further away from the palace. Nearly an hour had passed, already. The trip was quiet. Frieza tried to bait him with tasteless jokes, but Nail was not listening. His mind was in a completely different place. The Saiyans had to have been ready to attack; they might have started attacking, already. He knew Frieza couldn't sense ki, but he might have other good senses; he might have noticed his palace getting sacked. He hoped they were getting far enough away, to hide their plans.

His mind drifted to Bulma. He felt her energy suddenly spike, while he was storming the palace. He didn't know what she was up to, but he hoped that she was staying undercover, like they planned. He still didn't know the extent of her story, but if the Saiyans' reaction to her return was the norm, then Frieza's men might have given her more hell. This far away, he could only hope for the best.

He believed that she could do it. She was the one that volunteered to go undercover, and infiltrate the place. He never got the chance to see her, before she was sent off, but he wished that he could have given her some parting words. She was one of his best students, and he felt honored to call her a friend. If they all made it through this, he would have to tell her, himself.

Suddenly, Frieza phased in front of him, making him stop in his tracks and bringing him out of his thoughts. He looked very irritated with him.

"No more stalling," Frieza hissed. "We'll conduct our business here."

Nail grimaced, hoping he hadn't caught onto his plan. He looked down at the ground. "Very well, then."

Nail flew down to the ground, while Frieza gracefully floated down. Nail stood with his legs apart, and threw his vest off, floating away, forgotten in the wind.

Frieza clicked his tongue. "You really are serious about fighting me. Isn't your kind famous for mercy and pacifism? And I thought that slave I have was just the exception."

Nail braced himself. "I bear the heritage of my people's proud warriors. We will never show mercy to monsters like you."

"Such harsh words, from you: I suppose you have some bite to go with your bark?"

Nail crossed his arms above his head. He clenched his teeth and began powering up. The ground quaked, beneath them. Surprised, Frieza hit a button on his scouter, to track his power level. The numbers continued to climb, until there was a white aura radiating off of him.

"Wow. Forty-two thousand. That's not bad, at all. You certainly do stand out among the insects. I almost want to extend you an invitation into my court. Now, before you let my compliments go to your head, I feel I should give you an idea of just who it is you're about to face. Would you like to guess my power level?

"Five hundred and thirty thousand. Of course, I have no intention of using it all. You'll be seeing no more than a tenth of that, at maximum."

Even Nail had a low tolerance for smugness. Wanting no more of it, he jumped forward, ready to attack him. He pulled his hand back, and struck his neck with all of his strength.

Frieza didn't even flinch.

He closed his eyes and sighed. "I crane my neck out for you, and you give me nothing. If that's the best you can do, then why am I wasting my time?"

Nail jumped back. He had to think of something, to keep Frieza entertained. He stretched out his right arm, and grabbed a boulder. He sped forward and threw a ki blast in Frieza's face. He picked up the boulder, and chucked it at his back. Frieza lifted his fist, and it shattered upon impact. He took the blast without blocking, forming a large cloud of smoke. When it dissipated, he was unharmed; his armor wasn't even damaged.

Now, Frieza was a bit more interested. "I've got to hand it to you – that was actually a bit clever. You're using your environment to your advantage; many tend to ignore that. I'm curious about what other moves you have, in your skill set. I almost want you as an underling. Perhaps you'll reconsider your motives; you'd be a valuable asset to my elite force."

Nail snarled. "As if I would ever join a monster like you. I've heard stories about your reign; I refuse to take advantage of innocents."

"Well, if you wish to continue this squabble, I'll allow it. Show me your full power. To level the playing field, I'll only fight with my right arm. I have to keep it interesting, for myself."

"Fine!" At least Nail had his attention. He just had to fight for as long as he could; he had to give the others time to act. He ran out towards him, ready to punch him right in the face.

* * *

Four guards were posted, outside of the palace. With Frieza gone, they had few powerful resources to ward off anything, as a lowly Namekian was able to break down the door. Still, it was their ob to make sure the palace was protected. They were suspicious that the Namekian wasn't alone. So, they stood there, sweating and anxiously looking around and waiting for any attack.

One of the guard's scouters went off. It was picking up several power levels that were heading straight for them.

"Be on your guard. I think someone's coming." The soldiers picked up their rifles, holding them in front of their chests. The only sounds were coming from the gentle breeze. As seconds ticked by, the atmosphere grew tenser.

Then, the guards began to hear something – the sounds of organized footsteps. It was faint, but it was growing steadily louder. This must have been an invasion drill. They had them twice this month, already; why would they be cancelled, due to Frieza's absence.

Over the horizon, one man was marching forward. One became four. Four became ten. Ten became twenty. Twenty became forty. They were marching through the barren ruins of the city. They were heading right for the palace gates.

One of the guards squinted, and lifted one hand above his eyes, to see clearer. His eyes widened. "Alert everyone! We need full defense, at the front gate right now!"

"Why? Isn't this another drill?"

"Look at them again, soldier."

That guard looked back. The forty men were still marching toward them, uncaring about the arid temperature, as the sun beat down on their backs. Fists were clenched at their sides, as they moved over and around the rubble. Their skins were marred with scars and battle damage, and their armor looked the same. Then, he saw the bristled tails that were hanging behind their backs.

"You!" he shouted at the smallest guard. "Do what he said! And tell them to alert Lord Frieza, at once!"

Troops rushed to the front gate. Half went to the front, and the other half barricaded the door from the inside, as much as they could. They made barracks with whatever they could find, to cover from the oncoming fire. It would take them every bit of force they had to stop the oncoming invaders.

In front of the palace, seventy troops were outside, pointing their rifles at the Saiyans. They were almost halfway down the street, and close to entering the palace. The troops could hardly maintain their composure.

"Come any closer, and we'll shoot! You hear me, Saiyans?!"

They did not yield. Their hardened glares shook the soldiers to their cores; they hadn't seen hatred like that before in their lives. The Saiyans looked injured, rugged, and tired, but their steps did not falter. None looked back, keeping their gaze at their destination.

Their roll step increased to a sprint. They were just yards away from reaching the front gate.

"Fire at will!"

The soldiers loaded their rifles, their hands shaking as they pushed the plasma into the barrels. Those that were ready to fire didn't aim properly. One blast hit a building, making it tumble, and leaving a cloud of dust in its path. Despite the distraction, they weren't fast enough. As the dust cleared, the Saiyans were charging straight for the quivering troops.

All at once, the Saiyans pointed the palms of their hands at the gate, and fired synchronized ki-blasts, completely obliterating anything in its way. The barricade was destroyed, and the soldiers were sent flying across the room.

The Saiyans stepped through the rubble, ready to attack. A month of oppression and a near genocide was enough – they were ready to take back their home.

Frieza's forces were panicking, running around for back up and aid. They were not prepared for an invasion of this size. They fired from behind the barracks, only coming up to shoot at the attackers. The Saiyans deflected the blasts, sending them right back at them.

They advanced through the palace. The lines of soldiers were growing thick, but their blasters were hardly affective. Still, too many of them could overwhelm them.

"Aim for the muzzles," Nappa yelled.

"Yes, sir!"

A Saiyan pointed a finger and fired at a soldiers' rifle. It exploded upon impact, knocking him and his mates backwards. The ki-blast overheated the weapon past its limits, causing a self-destruct to occur. Nappa clearly remembered orders from the war to always aim for the muzzles. Even after all these years, the weapon technology was not enough to protect against this. The others followed through, with the order; it would dispose of them quickly.

However, it did not take long for the soldiers to catch onto this plan. "Drop your weapons! Attack them face-to-face!"

They dreaded fighting a Saiyan head on, but the soldiers outnumbered the Saiyan warriors four to one. Just a little bit of brute force would be enough to overwhelm them.

The rifles were trashed, and the soldiers dispersed. Most of them attacked to Nappa; without him, the Saiyans would have no direction and the legion would be cut off. He kicked three of them away, sending them headfirst into a wall. He punched, kicked, and slapped each soldier away, with ease.

The Saiyans fought through the waves of soldiers, advancing through the palace, leaving piles of them lying in the rubble. The soldiers were running through the halls, rushing to stop the offensive Saiyans. All were ordered to keep them from advancing by any means necessary. However, none of them knew how to.

One soldier was shoved out of the way. He looked back and saw another soldier running away from the chaos, against the flow of traffic. He ignored the coward and followed the rest of the troops.

Bulma was running as fast as she could, through the waves of soldiers. The endless parade made her trek to the throne room much more difficult. She knew that she was almost there, but the crowds were so dense. She was supposed to be out by now, and she was in the middle of the battlefield.

Nappa and the others were still in the entrance corridors. Any minute now, Zarbon would be leading the cavalry through the back entrance. If she weren't out, then she'd be truly stuck. She had to get this done now.

The back of her armor was grabbed, and she was pulled backwards. "Soldier, where are you going? All troops are to report to-"

He was lying on the ground, holding onto his broken and bleeding nose, before he could finish his sentence. She didn't have time to deal with that crap. She continued down the hall, shaking the pain out of her hand.

The adrenaline was beginning to wear thin, and the Saiyan's early enthusiasm was beginning to fade away. They were still weakened and fatigued, and it began to show. Some of their moves were getting sloppy, and they weren't engaged in the fighting anymore. The force of the resistance slowed to a crawl.

That was when they were starting to drop. Some struggled to move forward. They tried to persist, but they just weren't focused. The well-rested soldiers were beginning to take advantage of this. They attacked the weaker ones in the rear, letting the stronger persist. The formation was beginning to split up. At least fifteen of them were left behind.

"Nappa, sir," one of the Saiyans said. "They're pushing all of their attacks in the back of the flank!"

Nappa groaned, under his breath. They were already moving slower than they had hoped, and aiding those in the back was going to stop their progress, entirely. And the soldiers would just circle around them. They had to keep moving forward.

However, letting those in the back deal with the onslaught on their own would result in more casualties: the last thing that the Saiyans needed.

"Nappa, sir, what do we do?"

"Keep advancing. I'm going back there, myself."

"But Nappa-"

"That's an order!"

The Saiyans were shocked; they had never heard Nappa have an outburst like that. All of his orders were normally calm.

"If the forces are overwhelming, barricade yourselves until the others get here. Tell them everything, if I haven't returned."

"Yes, sir."

Nappa pushed through the crowds, to the back of the flank. He trusted in his team's abilities; they were smart enough to go on, without him. He was not going to let a single Saiyan die, today.

* * *

Frieza's soldiers were still trying to fight off the advancing Saiyan forces. They were instructed to keep firing and attacking until they all went down. Perseverance only went so far; eventually, they would need to stop. In the back, the generals and officers were standing in the back, communicating plans with the leaders on the frontlines.

"Has anyone gotten a response from Lord Frieza," yelled an officer

"No! Outside communications are jammed."

The officer pointed at a young recruit. "You! Go to the control room right now, and sort this out!"

He immediately started running. "Yes sir!"

The officer used his scouter. "What's going on, up there?"

" _Sir, we sent a wave of soldiers to attack the Saiyans lagging, in the back. That might decrease their numbers, and make them more manageable_.  _The less their numbers, the less power they'll have._ "

"Good, keep doing that."

" _Wait, sir. I think they're starting to catch on… and… their leader is going back there, to help, now!_ "

"Just the one."

" _Yes, sir._ "

"I want you to send a squad of six back there to aid the soldiers. Am I clear?"

The officer had a hand put on his shoulder. "I'll go with them. I'll take care of those monkeys."

The officer shrugged. "If you want to, general, go ahead." He hit his scouter. "Don't send them just yet – the general's going to be joining you. Follow his orders."

The general stood up, and hit his fists together, to pump himself up. "Keep my seat warm, for me."

* * *

The Saiyans were trying to fight off the forces that were quickly closing in on them. The rest of the forces were progressing without them, but Frieza's army was targeting them heavily. The offense continued to grow. As one of Frieza's soldiers went down, five others took his place.

A Saiyan tried to hit one of the soldiers, but the alert lackey dodged his blows. She tried to kick him, but the soldier grabbed his foot. Out from his armor, he pulled out a plasma knife and stabbed him in the knee, breaking her patella. She was tackled onto the ground, as a swarm of soldiers continued to pull her down.

One by one, half of the dozen Saiyans were going down. Each Saiyan was being overwhelmed, making it impossible for them to defend their comrades. The soldiers were making it very hard for them to get back up, again.

"What's wrong, Saiyan? Can't fight back," one of the soldiers mocked, to one of the fallen Saiyan. "Isn't your race supposed to be invincible?"

She tried to stand back up, but the soldier slammed his boot on her back. They all laughed, at her grunt of pain.

"Hey," yelled one of the lackeys in the front. "How are you doing, back there?"

"I think we've taken care of these monkeys."

"Ain't you gonna kill them?"

"No. We'll let Lord Frieza be the one to do it. He deserves to put these insubordinate, ungrateful flea-bags do-"

He flew face-first into the wall, with a broken jaw. The arrogant soldiers were suddenly afraid.

"It's Nappa! Fall back, fall back!"

Nappa pushed and threw the soldiers off of the Saiyans. Now on the defense, they tried to attack him all at once. Nappa easily overpowered them. He flared his ki, and the force sent them flying backwards. The Saiyan, no longer overwhelmed, were able to fight back and defend themselves, again. Frieza's forces were thinning out. They yelled into their scouters, trying to get reinforcements. They retreated, desperate to rejoin the others.

The remaining Saiyans were breathing heavily. Their injuries were minor and they were fatigued, but they were still fit to fight.

"How many," Nappa asked to one of them.

"I don't know. I think there were about fifteen of us."

Nappa did a quick headcount – the numbers came out even. He exhaled. "Good. Follow me – the others probably haven't gotten far."

Out of the corner of his eye, Nappa saw a Saiyan struggling to stand. She was one of the youngest – no older than 17. Her knee was bleeding badly, and her skin was practically burnt off.

He stepped up to her. She looked at him, and then turned away in shame.

"Look at me." Hesitantly, she looked him in the eyes. "You are not a disgrace. You fought with bravery and honor, despite the odds – you are a proud warrior, in my eyes."

She was shocked, as was everyone else. He looked at the rest of them. "The same goes for the rest of you. Remember what I said, before we came – get all that archaic nonsense about pride and honor out of your heads. It's only holding you back."

He looked back at the young Saiyan. "Can you still fly?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Float a little above the floor, and keep going, as normal. Just keep off your feet; it should make it easier for you. Do you think you can do that?"

She straightened her back, and floated a few inches above the ground. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He turned back to the others. "Move out. Let's get to the others."

Suddenly, a Saiyan screamed, and fell to the ground with a loud thud. Everyone turned around. There was a group of soldiers standing there, with their guns pointed right at them. They stepped out of the way, making a pathway in between them. A large, hulking figure walked to the front of the group towards the Saiyans, pounding his fists together.

Nappa looked down at the fallen Saiyan, then up at the attackers, with a sneer of disgust. "Dodoria…"

He laughed. "You look happy to see me! I'm surprised you managed to get this far, by yourselves. I'm rather impressed with you monkeys. Too bad all that is gonna go to waste, now!"

Nappa glared at him. He spit on the ground and took a fighting stance. "The rest of you, go meet up with the others. I'll handle this bloated bastard on my own."

"Are you sure, sir?"

"I am."

Dodoria waved his hand. "Whatever. It's your funeral."

Reluctantly, the Saiyans went ahead, leaving Dodoria and Nappa behind.

* * *

Zarbon led the cavalry out of the dungeons and into the palace, proper. The halls they traversed were completely barren. Not a single guard or soldier was on post, at all. Good – the risks they took worked, and no one knew of the second invasion. Frieza's army was busy attacking Nappa's offensive forces.

"Appule," he said. "Can you see where any soldiers are?"

Appule hit his scouter, which picked up a large cluster of power levels. "They're straight ahead."

Zarbon looked back at the Saiyans. "When you see them, hold your fire. We want to catch their attention, first."

The Saiyans nodded, and the cavalry started running. As they turned a corner, they found a group of soldiers, rushing to get to the rest of the army. Zarbon pushed his palm forward, aiming it at the wall in front of them. He fired a ki blast, and it zoomed past their heads, destroying the marble finish. It was meant to be a warning shot.

The soldiers froze on the spot. One of them glanced behind him, and gawked at the Saiyans charging at them.

"Oh crap, there are more of them!"

The soldiers panicked, and started running away, frantically calling for back up on their scouters. They continued to fire in their direction, making them run faster.

Some enthusiastic Saiyans tried to run after them. Zarbon put his hand up, halting him. They weren't going to follow them – that would be too obvious. Instead, they were going to find the location of Frieza's forces, take a shortcut, and attack right at the heart of the army. The officers would be preparing for an attack in the rear. The middle was where the weakest soldiers were kept, and they would be the most vulnerable to an attack. Then, they would quickly divide the army into more manageable sizes.

"They're down on the first floor," Appule said, looking at his scouter. "The Saiyans haven't gotten very far into the army."

"May I see that, Appule?"

He took the scouter off of his ear and handed it to Zarbon, who put it on, instead. Just as he predicted – the weaker power-levels were in the middle. And there was a clear pathway right to them.

"Alright. Follow me, and be quiet."

* * *

A beep came from one of the officer's scouters. "What?"

" _Where's Lord Frieza? I need to contact him this instant!_ "

"Lord Frieza is gone and communications are down. Who is this?"

" _I guard the detention center in the basement, and we have a problem. That little monkey is gone_!"

The officer paled. "Vegeta's escaped?!"

" _Busted out, more like it. Be on the lookout for a short little soldier with a robotic voice – that snot-nose blinded me when he was supposed to be feeding the prisoner!_ "

"Okay, just calm down. Communications will be up shortly, and we'll tell Lord Frieza about that, then."

The guard on the other end started yelling, and the officer hung up on him. Just as he was about to alert the others of the escaped Saiyan, six soldiers ran around a corner and rushed to the officers. Out of breath, one of them explained everything, "There are more of them – more Saiyans! And they're heading straight this way!"

He scoffed. "Yeah, right. They're not advanced enough to plan that, on their own."

"They didn't! Zarbon and Appule were with them!"

Now, the officers were shocked. They thought that Zarbon had died on a purging mission – that's what Lord Frieza had assumed, after he disappeared. If one of their best and strongest were fighting against them, they would be stuck. It was as if all at once, everything that could have possibly gone wrong went wrong.

"We've gotta split up the forces," one of the officer suggested. "We have to fight them!"

"That's what they want us to do – we can't give that to them!"

"What do you suggest, then? Just let them attack our rear?"

One of the officers hit a button on his scouter. "Outer communications status report - now!"

" _The line was completely shut off. It's rebooting, right now._ "

"How much longer do we have until it becomes operational?"

" _T-minus one minute, sir._ "

The officer turned back to his colleagues. "We'll have to split our forces, but we only need to stall for time until Lord Frieza returns. Halt their progress and keep it there, however you can. As soon as the line is back on, we must all contact him at once, to get his attention!"

* * *

Bulma skirted around a corner. She was still running through the crowds, trying to get to the throne room. The flood of people was only getting denser, as she continued through the hallways. She should have just asked for directions, earlier – it might have caused suspicion, but she would have been out of the palace, by now.

She turned down the only hallway without any people filtering in. As she looked to the end, her eyes lit up. Finally, she had luck – a familiar pair of wooden double doors was there. She shifted her right shoulder forward, and charged the door. They flew open, as she jumped onto the tile floor.

Wasting no time, she ran across the throne room. Appule said the Dragon Ball was right next to the throne. Her feet stomped on the strip of carpet, and she got closer to the front of the room. Nothing had changed, since she left; the purple banners with Frieza's emblem on it were still hanging from the walls. Luckily for her, there was a hole in the ceiling; perfect for a quick getaway.

Then, she was standing in front of the throne. On a padded pedestal, the Dragon Ball was sitting in the middle of it. She gently picked it up, and held it in her hands. The glass still felt the same, beneath her fingertips.

She shook her head, before she could get caught in her thoughts. She could mull about this, later; now, she had to get out.

She tucked the Dragon Ball underneath her armor, ran to the hole in the ceiling, and flew out of the palace. She remembered the direction that Nail went with Frieza, so she turned around and went the other way.

She had done her part of the plan; now, she had to do what she came here to do.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net June 17, 2017

Nail stood hunched over, panting. Frieza had put him through the ringer, for sure. He got a huge kick out of pushing him to his limits, and toying with him. They had been fighting for less than an hour, and he was at the end of his rope.

"Oh, you poor thing," Frieza said, standing behind him. "I use just a fraction of my power, and we already get to the bottom of you. Why not drop this futile resistance, and surrender? I still say you'd be valuable to my cause. I won't even punish you, for your insubordination."

Nail turned around and blasted Frieza with his full power, leaving a large cloud of dust, dirt, and sand in the air. It was useless; he stood, still calm and collected. Nail never knew that someone that powerful could ever exist in the universe. His calm attitude didn't alleviate his nerves; it seemed as if he could snap at any moment.

"Nothing in your bag of tricks is going to work; I thought you might be a bit smarter and realize that. Now, are you going to submit, or should we follow this course to its natural conclusion? The choice is yours, of course, but I cannot understand why you would persist, like this. For whom do you fight? I doubt that a Namekian would be interested in the affairs of those outside of your business. Aren't you supposed to be peace-loving folk? Going out of your way to fight me would contradict all of that.

"Unless, of course, there's something you're keeping from me..."

Nail stiffened and his eyes widened. Did he know about the attack?

A wry smirk formed on Frieza's face. "That's it – you're keeping secrets. Well, if you won't share your information willingly, I know ways of making you talk."

Frieza suddenly punched him in the gut, knocking the air out of him. Nail fell onto his knees. Before his arms could hit the ground, Frieza grabbed one of them and started pulling. Nail gritted his teeth, trying to escape his vice-grip. Frieza chuckled, as he sunk his nails into his skin.

Then, with one clean rip, he tore off Nail's forearm. He screamed in pain as he fell onto the ground, writhing and shaking.

Frieza tossed the severed arms onto the ground, in front of him. "There, there. I'm sorry that might have hurt, but hopefully I taught you a lesson – don't keep secrets from those in a position to dominate."

Nail took several deep breaths. He had to stay calm. Slowly, he stood back up.

"Do be careful – don't overwork yourself."

Nail shut his eyes and braced himself. He forced all of his remaining energy into his right arm, as he clenched his left hand into a fist. With a loud and long scream, his arm suddenly regenerated. It was covered in green slime, but the make was completely perfect. Nail held his right hand, as it twitched and moved. He was a much paler green now, and was panting hard.

Frieza looked surprised. "Well. That's quite interesting. Regeneration – very few species are able to master that. Unfortunately, you look even weaker – if only you could do the same for your strength."

He suddenly phased out of Nail's view. He looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. Then, he was socked in the nose, before he had a chance to react. He fell backwards, flinching in pain. Frieza loomed over him.

"I tire of his game – your continued theatrics are boring me. Now, are you going to finally tell me what secrets you're hiding, or should I send you on a one-way path to oblivion?"

Before he could give an answer, Frieza's scouter began beeping. He was getting new messages every second. He rolled his eyes; he couldn't leave his underlings alone for an hour without them getting into trouble. He pressed the call button and listened to the cycled messages.

" _Lord Frieza! The palace is under attack! It's the Saiyans!_ "

" _Frieza, my lord! The Saiyans broke through the blockade! They're in the palace!_ "

" _Frieza! Vegeta's escaped! That soldier you sent down busted him out!_ "

" _There are more Saiyans, my lord! And apparently, Zarbon's with them! We might be outclassed!_ "

All the messages were frantic variations of those phrases. Frieza was shocked. He made sure that he had killed every Saiyan he could get his hands on – how were they able to organize a rebellion?

As he stood gawking, Nail began laughing. "Even if I did tell you everything, that information would be useless to you. While you toyed with me, our allies have already begun their missions. Everything is going as we planned."

That was when it clicked, for Frieza.

"How could I have fallen for such an obvious ruse?!"

He suddenly powered up and flew away, leaving Nail lying on the ground. He shut off the messages on his scouter, quickly clicking through the readings. He didn't care about the Namekian. He didn't care about the Saiyans, either; he would deal with them, later.

He finally came across the correct screen. All of his fears were confirmed. A little blinking dot was moving across the screen.

"NO, NO! MY DRAGON BALL!"

He sped faster. Frieza would not be cheated out of immortality.

* * *

Bulma landed underneath a small plateau. She pushed her back against the wall, and stood still, trying to feel for surrounding power levels. As each second passed, it was clear that no one had tried following her.

She reached into her armor, and pulled out the Dragon Ball. Her teeth grabbed onto the bottom of her glove, pulled it off, and tossed it onto the dirt. She quickly rubbed her hand on the Dragon Ball. The ball glowed, and a bright light blinded her. As the light faded, Piccolo was revealed, with his back turned to her.

He hadn't said a word to her, and she could still feel the contempt and anger wafting from him. As seconds ticked on, he was still turned around. It was as if he was trying to ignore her, thinking that she'd go away after a while. She didn't know what to say to him. So, they were stuck in a silent stalemate.

He finally turned around, and looked down at her. He immediately scoffed, when he saw the uniform. "Look, get your wishes done now. If you only have one wish on your mind, that's all you're getting. I don't care if you have no ideas – I am not tying myself down to another self-absorbed, ill-informed, good-for-nothing punk who wants to have extreme power or wealth or whatever the hell you might want. So make it quick, and get it over with."

"I only have one wish, so you won't have to worry about that, Piccolo."

He blinked, and gave her an odd look. "How do you know my name? Who are you?"

She closed her eyes and breathed in. She grabbed the back of her helmet, and pulled it off of her head, taking off the cap underneath with it. She shook out her head and looked back up at him.

His eyes widened, before he resumed his usually aloof expression. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I told you already: make it fast."

She should have expected that reaction. Piccolo had no reason to want to see her – she treated him like garbage, and she was the one who got him into this mess. She tossed the Dragon Ball onto the ground, without any care.

"Piccolo…" she started. "I'm sorry. I… you were right. I'm selfish, shortsighted, and… I was only thinking about myself, when I made the wish, and I didn't think about the consequences or the implications. That was wrong, and I should have known better than to use that power on such an impulse."

She looked back up at him. He was still glaring at her. Tears weighed down her eyes.

"And… I was a horrible friend. I treated you no better than Frieza has. Hell, I wasn't any better than anyone else you've been forced to serve. I never took how you'd feel into consideration, and I could never imagine what your slavery has been like. There aren't any excuses in the world that could brush off what I did to you, and I don't care if you never forgive me for how I treated you…

"I still want to do whatever I can do make it up to you."

She stood still, waiting for some response. She didn't look back up at him, afraid of what his reaction would be.

He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up at his hardened but not malicious gaze.

"That's enough. Stop groveling over it, and toughen up. I thought I taught you better than that."

She nodded, and wiped the tears away. She let out a small laugh, as a wave of relief washed over her. "You're right."

Even Piccolo couldn't hold back a small smirk, and patted her shoulder once. He looked at the Dragon Ball. "Should I ask how you managed to get that thing?"

Bulma was suddenly brought back to the mission. "Piccolo, I don't know how much time we have, but I've got to make my last wish, before Frieza finds out the Dragon Ball is missing!"

"Alright. You have any ideas?"

"I have one, but I'm not sure you're gonna like it."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "I'm going to guess it's something other than 'I wish for everything that Frieza wished for to be undone'?"

"We can't do that."

Piccolo narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"

"Because he still has another wish. He could easily use that one to undo my wish. You just said you couldn't grant the same wish to the same person twice. You never said anything about granting the same wish to two different people twice."

"Damn, you're right. Didn't even think of that. Then, what's your idea?"

She looked back down at the ball. She walked over to it, knelt down, and picked it up. Ever since she planned on coming back, she thought of what she could do with her last wish. She had to make it count, for sure – an entire planet and an entire race of people were at stake. She went through every scenario for every wish in her head, making sure to count for everything that could go wrong. Each one had drawbacks and consequences, but she had narrowed it down to a few.

Then, the Grand Elder had told her about Piccolo's past – the son of an evil warmonger and the other half of the Earth's guardian. He was put into the Dragon Ball because of the actions of his father, and not for anything that he had done, personally. No one deserved to be judged by the actions of someone else. Piccolo was just as much Frieza's victim as the Saiyans were. And he might have been only marginally worse than the cruelest masters he had, before.

_"One act of kindness may be all that you need."_

She held onto it tighter, and planted her feet firmly onto the ground. She had said that she wanted to earn Piccolo's forgiveness, now it was time to show it.

"Piccolo, I wish for your freedom!"

Piccolo gawked at her. He suddenly fell down, and caught himself with his left arm. A large surge of power was coursing through him, and he couldn't contain it. He could only grind his teeth and brace himself. The ground flattened into a crater around him, and a blinding light engulfed him.

Bulma felt his power skyrocket suddenly. And it was still climbing. The ground dropped out from underneath her and she fell onto her knees. She looked down at the Dragon Ball. The brilliant orange sheen was fading into a dull grey. She covered her eyes, as she tried to look at Piccolo.

He screamed, and the bright light suddenly disappeared. The dust and rubble settled back onto the ground. Sweat rolled down his forehead, and he was breathing heavily. He looked down at himself – ki was radiating off of him like heat. What had happened?

* * *

Far across the galaxy, someone else felt what Piccolo had.

"Kami, what is it? Is something troubling you?"

Kami looked down at his assistant and life-long friend. "It's Piccolo. He's been freed. Even this far away, I can feel his presence, again, Mr. Popo."

Mr. Popo stepped back, with wide eyes. "How could he have been freed? What could he have done?!"

Kami breathed out through his nose. All of Piccolo's memories came to him. The eight-star ball had brought on nothing but tyrants and malevolence. Everyone who had gotten that amount of power had used it for his or her own selfish gain. Kami had come to grips with this long ago.

What surprised Kami was how Piccolo had dealt with it. Not only did he not encourage his malicious masters, he tried to circumvent them. He would exaggerate his limitations, or use their poorly worded wishes against them. And he never aided them, outside of the wish. No matter the bargains, he firmly stood his ground.

The only person he was ever lenient with was a lovesick young woman. Somehow, he had gotten under his skin, and, though he might have denied it, he had grown fond of her. She clearly admired him, in return. She learned of his past, but she still accepted him – she was the one who set him free.

Then, he saw the last tyrant that ruled over Piccolo. Out of all of them, he was the worst by a large margin – a genocidal dictator who just wants power and control. Kami couldn't help but chuckled, at the irony. He trapped Piccolo in the Dragon Ball to prevent him from becoming a tyrant; instead, several more sprout up across the galaxy.

Kami explained everything to Mr. Popo, who was having a difficult time taking everything in.

"Piccolo may have to fight this monster – if that's the case, then he cannot do it alone."

"But what can we do, all the way out here?"

Kami paused. "Maybe Shenron could help – if we act fast enough, there may be time for one more wish."

Mr. Popo left the lookout to locate the Earth's Dragon Balls. Kami stayed behind, gripping onto his staff. He shook his head.

"I have terrible misjudged you, Piccolo. You're nothing like your father, after all…"

* * *

Piccolo's new power was huge; it overwhelmed any other energy that could have been nearby. She looked down at her hand – the once brilliant Dragon Ball was now a simple granite sphere. She let out a breath and smiled; this was exactly what she wanted.

Piccolo looked up at her, a little distressed and confused. He was having a hard time processing this. "What the hell? Why did you wish for that?"

She held back a giggle – his confusion was a little cute. Her face fell into a frown. "I ended up on Planet Namek, after I got sent away. I knew you're a Namekian, so I asked their elder if he knew who you were. And, he did, and he told me about you… I don't know what your dad did, but Kami wasn't right to trap you, like that."

His eyes widened. She knew about his past, and she still freed him. Any sane person would have gone out of their way to make sure he never got out. He didn't realize she was that forgiving.

She spoke before he could. "What your dad did might have been awful, but you aren't him. If you were, you would have been glad to help Frieza, with his plans. If you were, you wouldn't have tried to help me, all of those times. You're a good person, and you don't deserve to be locked away like that. Frieza won't get to make his last wish, and you won't have to serve anyone anymore.

She walked up to him, took his arm, and put the granite sphere into his hand. "Piccolo, you're free."

He was still gawking at her. She just smiled up at him. His awed expression dropped back to his normal impassive look. He smirked.

He threw the rock onto the ground. He held out his palm and fired a ki blast, incinerating his prison. The dust blew away into the wind, completely forgotten about.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net July 22, 2017

Nappa and Dodoria stood across from each other. Neither of them was willing to make the first move, waiting for the other to strike. The hall was now eerily silent, and they were completely alone.

Suddenly, Dodoria phased out of view. He reappeared behind Nappa, ready to kick his hip. Before he could, Nappa turned around and grabbed his leg, stopping him from doing so.

"Zarbon said you were dead," Nappa said. "I knew it was too good to be true."

Dodoria laughed. "The pretty boy is on your side now, huh. Should have expected him to be a monkey lover."

Dodoria swiped his fist above Nappa's head, and he ducked, letting go of his arm. Dodoria kept going after him, swiping and jabbing towards Nappa, but he dodged every one of his blows.

"I'll give you this, monkey: you're not half bad. Though, I get the feeling you're holding back a bit."

Nappa suddenly threw his hand forward, sending an energy blast right for Dodoria's face. Dodoria swatted it away, and it completely disintegrated a wall behind them.

"Don't underestimate a Saiyan warrior: we're more powerful than anything your tiny mind could imagine."

Dodoria put his hands on his hips. "Well, if you're so confident, then show me. If you're anything like those other Saiyans I've tangoed with, then you're really overestimating yourself."

Nappa took a stance and began powering up, gritting his teeth.

"Your little friends did a lot more screaming and running, when we were through with them. Now that the rest of your race is here, we'll make sure that you won't have a chance to revolt ever again."

His fury rose with every word Dodoria said. How could he speak so callously about the lives he's taken? He was seeing red, and seething with anger. That anger increased his will to fight.

"Well, you'll probably be getting off easier than your little prince has. You don't even wanna know what he's done with him, this whole time."

That did it. Nappa ran towards him, screaming.

* * *

The cavalry snuck through the barren halls of the palace, being careful not to get spotted. They hid around corners and played tricks on the wandering soldiers, to clear the way for them. A faster Saiyan would quickly run past them, distracting them. The soldiers would then run in that direction, and away from where they wanted to go. The rest of the group would meet up with that person, and they would continue.

The scouter beeped, showing at least dozen power levels. "Be on your toes," Zarbon said. "We're getting close."

They hurried down a short flight of stairs. The commotion of the battle grew louder, as they descended. Zarbon held his hand up, stopping them right before they got onto the next level. He tip toed down and peaked around a corner. Sure enough, there was a large pile-up of soldiers standing there. They were at attention, but they were visibly shaking, as well.

Zarbon looked over his shoulder, and motioned for them to come forward. He brought a finger up to his lips, telling them to do it quietly. They did as he asked, and didn't draw anyone's attention.

"On my mark," Zarbon instructed, "Attack. Don't use lethal attacks, unless they're targeting you, specifically."

"Wait," one of the Saiyans asked. "Why would we do that? We need to subdue them."

"With me and Appule, our presence might convince a few of them to join our side. We need as much help as we can get." Zarbon seemed confident, so they didn't question him. They just hoped that it wouldn't backfire. He counted down with his hand. The Saiyans waited for his command, tense with anticipation.

"Charge!"

The cavalry ran around the corner, running straight for the soldiers. The Saiyans let out a cry, to make their presence known. Frieza's forced turned to the side, and screamed. They were completely unprepared, for this. They frantically and desperately tried to call for help, on their scouters.

"Aim for the scouters!"

The Saiyans focused their fires on the scouters, obliterating them. Frieza's soldiers panicked even more, now unable to contact their superiors. They would have to fight them head on, now. They aimed frantically at the invaders, but they blocked and deflected each of their shots.

"Zarbon, sir," one of them yelled. "Why would you betray us, like this?!"

He spoke without hesitation. He made sure to look right in his wide eyes. He looked like a young recruit – probably drafted, as he was. "I refuse to stand by while Frieza commits atrocities. If you knew better, you would do the same, soldier."

The look on his face was enough for him to know that he got to him. He lowered his weapon and looked down, obviously conflicted. He looked at the soldiers, then back at the cavalry, then at the soldiers, and then at the cavalry, again.

"Hey," one of the officers yelled. "Get firing! You're not here to gawk at them; Frieza doesn't keep you here for that!"

That was the tipping point he needed. Suddenly, he picked up his weapon and shot his superior in the arm. The round within the crowd caught everyone's attention, and the young soldier ran to join the rest of the group.

Then, all hell broke loose.

This section of the army became chaotic, running and firing at each other. The loyalists were trying to contain the invigorated traitors, and the traitors were fighting back. Some were just jumping ship to stay alive; others had gotten just as sick of Frieza's horrible acts as Zarbon had, and this was just the excuse they needed. Either way, the unity of Frieza's forces was breaking apart.

Just as Zarbon planned.

Now, the Saiyans understood what he meant. By disrupting their loyalty, they disrupted their form. The Colds did an excellent job of drilling order into their soldiers. They were unprepared for this kind of chaos. Once chaos would spread, then it would be easier to divide and conquer their forces.

"Keep moving," Zarbon yelled to the others. Then, the cavalry kept moving forward. As they continued, they didn't even need to stop to fight anyone; any incoming attacks could be blocked and deflected with a flick of the wrist. The chaos was beginning to spread, and more soldiers were turning on each other. Some went as far as to join the cavalry, in their advances. However, Zarbon didn't have to tell them to keep their guard up, with them around; they could be just using this chaos to get on the inside.

It didn't take long for them to rejoin the other Saiyans. They were still fighting hard, and were advancing at a faster rate than he imagined. Some of them looked worse, for wear, but they refused to fall down. The cavalry quickly moved into the ranks of the offense, integrating themselves into the main team. All looked well, but Zarbon noticed one thing missing.

"Where's Nappa?"

"We had a flank in the back that was getting attacked, heavily. He went there, himself, to defend them. I don't know how much time has passed, since them."

"Anything else of note?"

"Nope. We're advancing as planned, Zarbon."

"Excellent. We've broken up the soldiers in the middle, and created a bit of chaos, there. With any luck, it will spread further back, and we won't have to fight as many soldiers. Dividing and conquering should be easy."

Loud running sounded from behind. A group of fifteen Saiyans came crashing in from around the corner, to join the rest of the team.

"Somebody get me a status report, back there," Zarbon shouted.

He looked back at them. They looked so much worse than the ones that were fighting, to begin with. Some of them couldn't even lift up an arm. He noticed that one of them was flying above the ground, holding onto her leg.

A soldier ran to the front. "Nappa's not with any of them."

Zarbon looked down at the soldier. "Did they give a reason?"

"He stayed back to fight an enemy – some fat pink guy."

His eyes widened, with shock. "D-Dodoria? He's fighting him, alone?!"

"Apparently, he insisted that they go ahead, without him."

Zarbon looked back, again. Nappa was strong, but he would have never been able to take Dodoria on, alone. Not only was Dodoria stronger, but once his bloodlust started going, it was impossible to control him. Even Zarbon couldn't handle it, during practice. They needed Nappa, and his guidance; they couldn't afford to lose him.

"Appule," Zarbon shouted to the other side of the flank. "I need you to take over, for me."

"What's happening?"

"I'm going back to help Nappa; he's fighting Dodoria."

Appule didn't need to be told twice. He weaved his way through the Saiyans and rushed up to him. "I've got you."

He turned to one of the leading Saiyans. "Brief him on everything, and keep going, as planned. Understand?"

"I will. Good luck."

Zarbon jumped over the rows of soldiers and onto the empty ground. He started running in the opposite direction, hoping he'd make it in time.

* * *

Nappa punched Dodoria in the face, knocking him off balance. His aura was flashing around him, creating sparks of light. He spun around once and kicked him in the back, sending him flying further into the hallway. Nappa leapt after him, hoping to get in another hit.

Dodoria vanished from view, stopping Nappa in his tracks. He looked around, trying to find him again. Suddenly, he was hit in the gut and pushed backwards at an incredible speed. His back smacked against the wall, breaking it completely, and he fell onto his back. Dodoria stepped backwards, and rubbed his sore head.

Nappa staggered back up, and charged him again, aiming for his gut. Dodoria blocked his blow with both arms. Unfortunately, that was a huge mistake. Nappa powered up his free hand and hit it against one of Dodoria's arms.

Before he could groan in pain, Nappa head butted him, knocking him to the ground, again. He stepped back, knowing his reaction was going to be big.

Dodoria stood back up again, grunting in pain. "Was that the best you got? If it is, then you're weak!" He tried to throw an attack, but nothing came.

That was when he looked down and saw the damage: his hand was gone. He looked on the ground and saw his entire right forearm lying in a pool of his blood.

Now, he was mad. Dodoria was shaking with rage. He clenched his left hand tightly. The nail of his thumb dug into his skin, drawing blood. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was mumbling nonsense syllables.

"You've done it now, you dumb monkey. Now… I'M GONNA RIP YOU APART!"

Dodoria lifted his fists in to the air, breathed in, and fired a huge ki-blast from his mouth. Nappa jumped out of the way, ducking his head under his arms. He didn't move fast enough to see the other ki blast he had fired. Nappa was hit right in the back, stunning him. Before he could react, Dodoria had him in a headlock. Even with one hand, his grip was tighter than a vice.

Dodoria laughed. "Come on, now: where's all that Saiyan strength you were bragging about, earlier? You're just like the rest of the trash."

Nappa braced himself in a sitting position, and tried to grab onto Dodoria's legs to throw him off. Instead, Dodoria smashed his face into the floor, breaking the tiles underneath.

"I was going to wait for Lord Frieza to kill you, but I can see that you're worthless to him."

Dodoria braced his hand behind his head and his arm in front of his neck. Nappa struggled, but he couldn't break free. Was this how he was going to die: before he even got to lay a hand on the monster who killed his people? His strength wasn't enough to liberate their race.

"Well, look at the bright side: at least you'll be reunited with the rest of your pathetic race."

Dodoria was suddenly blasted in the back, and he dropped Nappa. Before he could react, he was kicked away, into another wall, and was sent flying across the hall.

Zarbon landed gracefully on the ground. He knelt down next to Nappa. "Nappa, are you alright?"

Nappa pushed himself back up, and staggered until he found his balance. He rubbed his neck. "Never better. What are you doing here? You're supposed to stay with the army."

"I came as soon as I learned who you were facing. And I see I made the right judgment."

"Yeah, sure. Remind me to thank you, once we finish fighting this bastard."

Dodoria was up on his feet faster than they were anticipating. He stalked towards his enemies, clenching his fist and sporting a sadistic smirk.

"So, pretty boy, you came back."

Zarbon was still cool and calm. "Indeed. How are you still alive? I thought Frieza gave you a thrashing, after you failed your mission."

He laughed. "A story for later. I've got a better question: why would you turn against us, after all these years? Do you think you can stand a chance against us, let alone Lord Frieza?"

"Is that rhetorical? Surely, someone as thick as you can see what someone like him being so powerful would do. I refuse to stand idly by while he rules over innocents. Not anymore, at least."

"Oh, I see. I knew you were a monkey lover, but I didn't know those filthy Saiyans meant so much to you."

"Enough with the reunions," Nappa said, getting frustrated. "Unless you're having a change of heart, we're defeating you here and now."

"Are you that eager to die? Then come at me, when you want." Dodoria stood at a guarded stance, still grinning at them.

"So," Nappa whispered. "You got any tricks up your sleeve?"

"Just one," Zarbon said. "I never like using it, but I can make an exception."

"You better. All right, we both go in at once, and then you show off that little trick. Between the two of us, this will be easy."

"Don't get cocky. The longer Dodoria fights, the more powerful he becomes. We have to end this as soon as we can."

"Are you through with chatting," Dodoria said. "Whatever little plan you can come up with isn't going to work. Let's get on with our little fight."

"Yeah," Nappa yelled. "Let's do it!"

Zarbon and Nappa leapt into action, ready to attack Dodoria.

* * *

Piccolo blinked, as he felt something flash. Something was heading right for them. And they weren't happy. That could only mean one thing.

"Get behind me, kid," he said to Bulma.

Bulma looked up at him, confused. He became serious, all of a sudden. "What's wrong?"

He clenched his teeth and pushed her behind him. "We've got company."

Her eyes widened. "W-who?"

"You can feel energy – looks like someone's caught onto your plan."

She didn't even have to feel around much for it; it was right on top of them. She braced herself on Piccolo's arm. She dared to lift her eyes off of the ground and up to the plateau above them.

Her heart stopped and she paled. Frieza was standing above them, glaring down at them. She steadied herself, to stop from shaking so much.

Frieza's eyes moved from Piccolo down to Bulma. She froze, as he looked at her right in the eyes. They were filled with nothing but pure malice. She had never been so afraid in her entire life. All of her confidence suddenly dried up, now that she was facing that monster; she wasn't ready for this, at all.

An unsettling smile crept onto his face. "I hope you've said your goodbyes: you won't get the opportunity to say them, later."


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net August 4, 2017

Frieza stepped off of the plateau and floated down to the ground, below, never taking his eyes off of his targets. He remained calm, but his eyes were burning with malice and discontent. Bulma was trembling, with fear, knowing that she wasn't going to get out of this easily. Piccolo kept his cool, aloof exterior, and stared right back at him.

"It seems that futile rebellion has been very popular, today. First the Namekian, then the Saiyans, and now you two: a lowly slave and an annoying pest that I should have exterminated long ago. I would not be this upset had I not lost the Dragon Ball. But you had to get the drop on me: you conned me out of eternal life. It's funny. I don't think I have never been angrier than I am now." His calm façade was slowly breaking. He clenched his fists together and barred his teeth.

Then, he let out a loud shriek.

"YOU MAGGOTS! I WILL TORTURE YOU SLOWLY! YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU CROSSED THE MIGHTY FRIEZA!"

Piccolo chuckled, and shook his head. "Just as I thought – you're nothing more than a spoiled little brat. Just like all the rest." Bulma gaped. He wasn't trying to provoke him on, was he? They were on thin ice, already.

Frieza was still shaking with anger. "It seems that you have to learn the same lesson I've taught the others: don't test the patience of those who are in a position to dominate."

Piccolo stood with his arms down beside him, and took a wide stance. Bulma quickly followed suit, mirroring his stance.

Frieza laughed. "If only you knew what I had in store for you. Treason is a crime, and I will give your punishment tenfold. Consider yourself lucky that you won't be kept around long enough to see what I have planned for your little Earthling friend."

Piccolo snarled. "Look, unless you're planning on talking us to death, you might as well shut up and come at us, already."

Frieza quickly held his palm out at his targets and fired a bright red energy blast. Piccolo grabbed Bulma by the arm, and jumped out of the way. The blast exploded upon impact, leaving a large cloud of dust.

Piccolo grabbed Bulma's shoulders. She was still not caught up with what was going on. That blast came so fast, she didn't see it coming, at all. "Now's not the time to get distracted. Stay on your toes, stay back, and keep dodging. Don't come anywhere near me."

She nodded. "Okay…"

Another blast was fired on the plateau they were standing underneath; they jumped out of the way in different directions, avoiding the falling rubble.

Bulma took cover behind a boulder, while Piccolo continued to phase in and out of Frieza's view, distracting him. Frieza kept firing in his direction, by couldn't hit him. The ground right next to her feet was hit, making her jump back. She coughed, as the dust cropped up around her.

Then, something clicked for her. She didn't go through all the training that she did just to hide the entire time. She wanted to get rid of this bastard just as much as anyone else wanted to. She should go in and fight.

Bulma knelt in a crouched stance, ready to jump out. She looked at Frieza's movement, trying to predict where he was going to shoot, next.

She jumped out, taking a leap of faith. Immediately, she had his attention and he blasted at her. She dodged the incoming blow, jumping in front of another boulder. Frieza's eyes widened, then narrowed into a glare, and he fired, again. Once again, she jumped out of the way. With every dodge, his blasts were growing more and more powerful.

Right as she jumped down, again, he phased in front of her, and grabbed her by the throat. He looked enraged. He tightened his grip, cutting of her windpipe.

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE PEST?!"

Before he could do anything, he was pulled back by his tail. Piccolo pulled his stretched arm back towards him, and kicked Frieza into a plateau.

Piccolo jumped back over to Bulma, who was rubbing her neck. "You idiot! What the hell were you thinking?!"

She glared at him. "I wasn't going to sit back while you fight Frieza by yourself! I trained too hard to do that!"

"This isn't some playful spar. This is life or death. You can't be reckless, with an enemy like him. I thought you would know better."

Before he could scold her anymore, Frieza broke free from the plateau. Bulma gawked. With the speed and impact he hit it with, he should have been ground meat. But there wasn't a single scratch on him. His armor was just a little busted.

Piccolo spit, on the ground. "Alright, kid, you wanted a fight, and you're going to get it. But you'll have to fight harder than you ever had, before." He grabbed the collar of his cape and threw it behind him, and it landed with a loud clunk. His turban quickly went with it. His clothing was always weighted, so he could always be getting stronger.

Bulma nodded. "I know." She pulled her disguise armor over her head and threw it down, and the gloves, boots, and bodysuit followed. Piccolo glanced over at her and saw her battle gi. It was traditional Namekian wear, with a full-body jumper like his. She had a long vest like Nail's over top it, but it was kept in place by a sash around her waist. The color scheme almost matched his.

Frieza took note of that, as well. He smirked. "How charming. You're serious about fighting me. Well, let's put that confidence to the test, shall we?" He stood with his legs shoulders width and his fists out to the side.

"Just stay out of my way. I'm not going to help you, if you get caught in the crossfire," Piccolo said.

Piccolo rushed towards Frieza, who was still standing unguarded. His hand was pulled back, ready to strike his neck. Frieza was ready to block the strike, but he was suddenly punched in the gut by his opposite hand, catching him off guard. Piccolo spun around and smacked him away.

Frieza's tail grabbed onto a rock, and he threw himself back towards Piccolo. This time, he was ready to attack, and his ki was flocculating around him. As he flew closer to his opponent, he tore off his scouter and fired laser beams out of his eyes, unknowingly crushing the device in his hands. However, the attack phased through him, and the image completely disappeared. He looked around, trying to find him.

Piccolo suddenly phased behind him, and fired a blast into his back. He wasn't fast enough to avoid getting hit by Frieza's tail, sending him dropping towards a pile of rocks. Right as he was about to make impact, he pushed a ki-blast out of his feet and hands, sending him right back up, again.

Much to Frieza's chagrin, he and the Namekian were already equally matched. And he could tell that he was still holding back. He wouldn't hold out for much longer, in this state. He just needed an opening, and then he could give these pests the punishment they deserved.

"MASENKO, HA!"

A bright yellow energy blast hit Frieza square in the back, shattering the rest of his armor and knocking him forward. He snarled and looked over his shoulder. Bulma was standing behind him, with her palms stretched forward. There was no way that attack came from her. It had to be a trick.

She pulled her arm back, and fired another blast right towards him. "Take this, you nincompoop," she yelled.

Just as he was about to block, he heard another scream behind him. Piccolo fired an attack from both of his hands, aimed right at him. Both attacks hit him at once, creating a large cloud of dust and light.

"Now, to finish you off!"

Piccolo began firing random energy blasts in that direction, for safety. The smoke cloud increased, and mushroomed out. The debris engulfed the entire plain, and Bulma covered her eyes, with her forearms. Once Piccolo was sure the deed was done, he lowered his arms.

Bulma hopped off the cliff and flew over to Piccolo. "Is it over? Did we beat him?" It had to be. Those blasts had to have been worth at least one bomb. At the very least, he had to be severely weakened.

The smoke began to clear. In the middle of the dust cloud, Frieza was covering his face with his forearms. He had definitely taken damage. His entire body was covered with bruises and burn marks. And he didn't have any armor left to protect him. He lowered his block and glared at them. Bulma and Piccolo took fighting stances, waiting for him to attack them.

Instead, Frieza slowly lowered himself back down to the ground, and crossed his arms, again. The pair glanced at each other, neither understanding what he was trying to do. He nodded at her and followed him back down. She lowered herself, too. Frieza should have been throwing another tantrum, for being beaten like this. Why was he acting so calm?

"So," Frieza said, "It seems as though you have more power than I thought. I'll admit, that actually hurt just a bit. Regardless, I now know not to make the mistake of underestimating either of you, again."

Piccolo's eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you on about? Don't tell me you've been holding back."

An evil glint shined in his eyes. "As a matter of fact, this is only a fraction of what I'm capable of. I was going to save it for later, but you've left me with no choice. Consider yourselves honored: no one has ever pushed me into transforming, before."

Bulma was even more confused. "Transforming? What does he mean," she said to Piccolo.

"A lot of freaks in the universe can alter their forms at will," Piccolo explained. "I know that his kind is famous for that. They alter their appearances to conserve energy or for camouflage."

Frieza commended the Namekian. "You really have done your homework. However, my case is rather extraordinary. I choose to stay in my present form to keep my power from running amuck."

"Don't listen to him. He's bluffing. He won't change much."

A devilish smirk formed on the tyrant's face, sending a chill of fear up Bulma's spine. "Am I? Well, then. I'll be happy to put all your doubts to rest. Consider it as a little reward for angering me."

Frieza hunched over, clenched his fists, and let out a loud yell. A blood red aura engulfed him, and the ground beneath him began to give way. Out of nowhere, the wind picked up speed and dark clouds gathered above them.

Bulma and Piccolo covered their faces from the harsh winds. They could barely make out what was happening, beneath all the dust and smoke. Frieza's screams were becoming more and more strained. It looked like his skin was breaking like glass, as every second passed. His power was colossal – they could barely get their heads around it. Every time it seemed like it could reach its peak, it kept climbing

A bolt of lightning struck the ground right in front of them, making them jump away. The ground burst open, and hot air spewed through the cracks. The winds pushed them backwards. Piccolo grabbed Bulma's arm and pulled her back, and they took cover behind a boulder.

Then, a blinding light flash, and an explosion shook the planet's surface. One last gust of wind pushed them back, as debris flew through the air before settling on the ground. The boulder burst, and they covered their heads, protecting them from the falling rubble. Bulma looked up and nearly fell over. The force of the transformation managed to tear a hole right through the atmosphere. And the entire ground beneath him was leveled, creating a giant sinkhole.

The smoke began to clear, showing Frieza's transformed state. His horns were gone, as was his natural body armor. Now, he was sleek and smooth. Bulma thought that he almost looked human. His horns were gone, and his head was now a rounded cranium, plated with a purple dome. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought that this was a completely different person.

But those piercing red eyes were distinctly his.

Frieza suddenly phased right in front of them, making them flinch. Even Piccolo couldn't keep up with his movements. That power was enormous: the biggest he had ever felt in his life. Worst of all, the damage that he managed to inflict upon him was completely undone.

What kind of monster had he become?


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net August 12, 2017

Frieza stared at his two adversaries. His old slave might have been putting up a front of confidence and aloofness, but he had enough experience to recognize terror when he saw it. His bottom eyelid was twitching ever so slightly, and his jugular was pumping faster than it was, when they saw it. Of course, he was doing a better job of hiding it than the Earthling woman was. She looked as if she was seconds away from passing out in complete fear.

"Are you beginning to understand, now," he said. "None of you stand a chance against me. If only you had the courage to submit – then, you wouldn't be in so far over your heads as you are now."

Piccolo snarled. "So you say!"

Frieza cocked a brow. "Still have your doubts? Well, let's put your power to the test now, slave."

Piccolo jumped into the air and flew to attack him. But no matter how fast he went, Frieza moved away from him in one swift move. He was barely trying to avoid his attacks. Piccolo threw his palm forward, to shoot him in the face. Frieza simply flared his energy, forcing him backwards.

Piccolo tried to hit him again, but Frieza flipped around and kicked him in the back. However, Frieza was too slow, and Piccolo managed to throw one ki-blast in his face before flying away. If he couldn't fight him head on, he had to keep distance between them. He looked over his shoulder – Frieza was quickly gaining up on him.

Thinking quickly, he brought two fingers to his forehead, and concentrated his energy into his fingertips. He powered up and flew away faster. Frieza compensated by flying right in front of him, stopping him in his tracks – exactly as he had planned. Piccolo pointed his fingers at Frieza and fired a small drill-shaped beam in his face. Frieza's eyes widened. Before the drill could hit him, he flared his ki, and deflected it. The beam exploded when it impacted with a plateau, sending rubble falling to the ground.

Bulma dodged the rubble, and looked back up at the fight. How strong had Frieza gotten? He was deflecting and dodging Piccolo's attacks as if they were nothing. And even after that huge blast he narrowly managed to deflect, he was still so calm. The fight had only just begun – they couldn't have been losing.

Piccolo took advantage of his distraction. His arm stretched out, grabbed his tail, and threw him towards the falling rubble. He fired a ki-blast right in his direction. Right as he pulled his arm back, Frieza grabbed a hold of it, and kicked him in the jaw.

Now, Frieza was fighting back, hitting him with quick jabs and kicks at nearly every second. Piccolo tried to block them all, but they were becoming too numerous. When he flared his ki, Frieza paid no attention to it, and kept attacking.

Right before he was about to get hit again, Piccolo blinked and flashed a bright light from his eyes. Frieza's vision was completely obscured, and he covered his eyes, screaming in pain. Piccolo flew back to the ground.

Bulma rushed over to him, as he took cover, in between a trench. "What's going on," she asked. "Why did you run?"

Piccolo snarled. "Frieza's power is enormous. I've never dealt with anything like it, before. Dammit! I should have killed him, when I had the chance."

"But it's not the end, right? If we team up and double-team on him, we can still beat him."

"Not unless you've got some brilliant plan you haven't told me. Otherwise, it's hopeless."

Bulma backed up, and looked at him. He was still looking up, keeping his senses glued onto Frieza, waiting for him to get over the blinding attack. "You're not giving up, are you?"

He huffed. "Of course not. If I die, at least I'll die fighting that monster."

She thought. There had to be a way for them to beat Frieza. Just rushing in and fighting him to the death wasn't going to do anything. Things might have looked bleak, but there was always another way. There had to be something that one of them could do without either of them getting killed.

Like a bolt of lightning, an idea popped in her head.

"Piccolo, you and Kami are connected, right?"

He took his attention off of Frieza to look at her. She sounded way too enthusiastic about that. "Why do you care?"

"I mean, do you know all the techniques that he knows?"

"Some, yes. Again: why do you care?"

"Do you think you can trap Frieza in something the same way he trapped you in the Dragon Ball?"

Now, he was shocked – she knew about the Mafuba. She knew about his past with Kami, sure, but how did she find out about the specifics?

"Well," she demanded.

"I've never tried it, myself, and even Kami hasn't used it, that much."

"But…?"

He huffed. "There's a chance it would work. It's intended for demons, but Kami didn't know of our origin, when he came up with it. It might be worth a shot."

He glanced back up, again. Frieza was gaining his eyesight, again. "Problem is, I can't exactly do it on the fly – I'll have to gather up enough energy to be able to do it, properly. I need Frieza distracted for that long."

Bulma pulled on her ponytail, tightening it. "Leave that to me. I'll keep his attention for as long as you need me to."

"Don't start acting like a hero. If you get yourself into hot water, I won't jump in to save you."

"I understand." Bulma jumped out of the trench and flew to an adjacent plain. Piccolo stayed hidden in the crevasse. As he started to gather up energy, he silently wished her luck.

Frieza blinked, and his vision returned to normal. He looked around. When he got his hands on that Namekian, he was going to make him pay. No one outsmarted the mighty Frieza and got away with it.

"Hey, Frieza!"

He looked down. Bulma was standing on a plain, glaring up at him. Her vest and hair was blowing gently, with the oncoming breeze.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size, you freak?"

Frieza teleported right in front of her, with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His tail was waving lazily, behind him, as he finally looked over her, properly.

He snorted and shrugged, slightly. "Fine. If you're so eager, then try me."

* * *

Dodoria was refusing to go down.

Nappa and Zarbon were still double-teaming him, inflicting as much damage on him as they could. He was almost gruesomely damaged. Hideous burn marks scarred his body, and his armor had long since broken off of his body. One of his eyes was bleeding, the entire sclera a dark crimson. Despite all of this, he was still standing, and he was still putting up a fight.

Zarbon rushed Dodoria, kicking at his face. He casually blocked his blows with his arm. Dodoria swiped his fist upwards, punching him square in the gut, breaking his armor. Dodoria kicked him in the head, sending him flying backwards. Zarbon stopped himself and landed in a crouched position, charging him, again.

This time, Dodoria didn't get to counter attack. Nappa phased behind him, and blasted him in the back, destroying what was left of his armor. Zarbon fired as well, creating a large cloud of smoke. The structure of the palace shook, and rubble from the above floor fell down on top of him.

Nappa and Zarbon regrouped, just a few feet away. Both of them were getting worn out; Nappa especially, since he had been fighting for nearly a full hour without a break.

"Why hasn't he been going down," Nappa whispered to him.

"I don't know," Zarbon answered. "And the power of his blows has been increasing, as well. Have you noticed that, as well?"

"I have. This makes no sense."

Dodoria's arm broke through the rubble, and he staggered back up. His blood was dripping down to the floor, but he still had a sadistic smile on his face. He still looked confident.

"Why aren't you dead," Nappa yelled. "How are you still standing, after all we've thrown at you?!"

Dodoria laughed. "A little mutation my race has – with every blow we take, our attacks become stronger! We don't even have to wait to heal, for it to affect us. We could be on the brink of death, and still overpower our foes. Frieza had a little, how you say, experimentation done on me, after I failed to get that Earth girl to make it stronger. And he had been testing it on me personally ever since."

Zarbon was taken aback. He always knew Frieza was cruel to his men – he had seen it first-hand several times. Even then, he never thought he would go experimenting on them, like that; he thought that was too cruel, even for him. And Dodoria seemed so content with it.

He put all of the ethics in the back of his head. If what he said was accurate, they needed to dispose of him soon, before he went on a rampage.

"Nappa, can you stand back, for a moment?"

Nappa was about to protest, but then he understood. He stepped backwards, giving him enough space to do what he needed to do.

Zarbon tucked the strands of hair in his face back into place, and looked up at Dodoria. "I'll admit: I had no idea you were hiding any assets like that. As a courtesy, I believe I should show you a taste of my own power."

"Really? Has the little peacock been hiding his feathers?"

Zarbon straightened the arm warmers on his wrists. "Believe me, you have no idea. Using that power calls for a transformation. The form disgusts me, but when my hand has been thrown, I'm left with no choice."

Dodoria chuckled. "Alright, then, pretty boy: you've got my attention. Let's see what you have in store."

Zarbon threw his arms out. The muscles puffed out, increasing three-times their size. His thighs and calves followed soon after. He only shook slightly, before his face suddenly transformed. Gone were the graceful and handsome features that made Dodoria always look down upon him. Now, his grotesqueness rivaled even his own. His features were more reptilian, with large fangs and no nose. He puffed out his chest, increasing his size and height.

Dodoria stepped backwards. "W-what the hell?"

Zarbon ran towards him, and smacked him in the face, sending him skidding across the floor. He grabbed Dodoria by his foot, and threw him behind, breaking the marbled floors. Before he could recover, Zarbon grabbed his face and head butted him into his rock-hard skull.

He threw Dodoria in the air, and bent him over his knee, nearly breaking his spine. He kicked him in the head, and punched him in the gut. Dodoria was taking every blow, no matter what he tried.

Nappa had heard rumors of races that could alter their forms at will, like that. He never would have suspected that Zarbon, of all people, were capable of that. His moves were different, too. Nappa knew him to be a very graceful fighter. His normal attacks were weaker, but fast. Now, his moves were slow, but powerful. He was fighting more like Dodoria, actually. It was as if his entire demeanor had changed. He clearly had the upper hand, in this fight.

But if that was the case, why wasn't he finishing him off? He seemed intent on toying with him for a while, before throwing the finishing blow. But Dodoria was hardly fighting back. It looked like he was taking everything he could get.

Zarbon caught Dodoria in a full nelson, and laughed a cruel laugh. "Do you understand, now? In this form, I can snap your neck like a twig! It's a hideous form, but the trade-off in power is well worth it!" He sounded completely different, as well. His voice was low and monstrous, and he talked like a bloodthirsty brute. Did the form have an effect on his personality, as well? It must have been why he hadn't just killed Dodoria, yet. As of now, he was hanging his head downwards, letting him gloat.

Then, he suddenly grinned.

Nappa's eyes widened. "Zarbon, look out!"

Dodoria flared his energy, throwing Zarbon off of him. The palace walls collapsed around them, as fifteen stories worth of concrete and stone went tumbling down. From the outside, it appeared than an entire part of the castle was missing. The shaking could be felt throughout the palace.

Dodoria laughed, and turned around. He began to hobble in the other direction, looking for his opponent.

Nappa understood, now. Dodoria had gotten too powerful for anyone to beat. He had let himself take all that damage just for the chance of beating Zarbon. Now, he was about to repay what he had been dealt. If Zarbon's transformation had truly clouded his rational mind, then he'd continue wailing on him, as he had before. And Dodoria would have no trouble overpowering him.

He had to be stopped now.

Nappa threw his hand to the side, and charged the most powerful attack that he knew. The ball of energy crackled and sparked in the palm of his hand. He poured everything he could into it. He couldn't hold back, and risk his opponent getting stronger.

Zarbon got back up, very scuffed and bruised. He tried to punch Dodoria, but Dodoria hit before he could. Zarbon keeled over with the force of the punch, and Dodoria kept hitting him fast with his remaining arm.

Nappa jumped off the ground and rushed him. Dodoria turned around. Nappa threw his arm back, and pushed his palm forward.

"DIE!"

A bright energy blast went straight for him. Dodoria's eyes widened, as the ki engulfed him. Zarbon jumped away, before the impact hit. A large explosion hit and the ground shook. Zarbon and Nappa covered their eyes from the light and debris.

* * *

A soldier fell down, as he was running through the hallway. The entire palace was violently shaken by an unknown force. As it subsided, he kept running. He was ordered to go to the medical bay and retrieve some items there. The army had been split and the generals couldn't get a hold on all their soldiers. Some had deflected to the Saiyans. They wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer. With healing items, soldiers would be encouraged to rejoin their army. Then, they would regroup and finally take care of the Saiyans. Still, no one had heard from Frieza; he never replied to any of the SOS.

He ran up to the door and stopped. On the door, there was a sign that said "Under Renovation" with a sad face. He didn't care. He tore off the paper, crumpled it, and threw it on the ground. He opened the door, but it was blocked. There was a filing cabinet in front of it. He managed to squeeze his fingers through, and slowly pushed it out of the way. The cabinet tipped to the side, and hit a counter top. He jumped over the obstacle and ran inside.

He went through the drawers, and pulled out various healing equipment: bandages, gels, alcohols, and anything else he could managed to hold.

"Why didn't they send another guy up here with me," he whined. "I don't want to carry this all by myself."

He gathered up whatever he could into his arms and was about to run. Then, he noticed something quietly humming, in the room. It sounded like one of the healing pods. How could this be? Frieza only allowed the top-ranking generals to use them. None of them had been injured, to his knowledge.

He turned around, to look for the pod. It was right behind him. As soon as he saw who was inside, he dropped the equipment, in shock.

He ran in front of the pod, and hit the call button on his scouter. "Hey, hey! This is 321 – I'm in the medical bay! You're not gonna believe what I'm seeing!"

The call was answered. "What are you talking about? Get your ass back down here with those supplies! What's so important, up there?"

"Didn't someone say that one Saiyan had escaped?"

"What? Yes, someone did. Why?"

He put his hand on the glass. "Cause he's in the tank!"

He was sitting in the tank, wearing scraps of armor on him. He was in full stasis, completely unaware of what was going on. This was perfect. He could easily use this to incapacitate him. Surely, he'd get on Frieza's good side, then. He ignored his superior's ranting and looked over the controls of the pod, trying to find a way to change the settings. There had to be a way to do this, properly. He kept glancing up at him, as he was doing so.

The machine suddenly beeped, signaling that the healing was complete. The soldier stepped backwards in shock. Suddenly, a bright light emitted from the pod. The soldier began to scream, as the glass shattered and the light engulfed him.

The shards of glass hit the walls, and scraped the cabinets and counter tops. The healing gel hit the walls, covering the entire room in goo. The rest of it dripped down from the broken tank. The rest of the door fell off, completely.

A hand grasped the walls of the pod, and stepped down onto the floor. Vegeta was finally healed.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net August 19, 2017

Vegeta looked at his surroundings. He couldn't even remember how he got here. He certainly didn't come here, himself. How long had it been, since Frieza had taken over? However long it had been, it was all a complete blur, to him. He could only vaguely recall someone breaking him out of his cell. He had thought it was another hallucination, but clearly, it wasn't.

He looked down at himself. Not only was he completely healed, his power had increased ten-fold. He could barely keep a handle on it. He never would have thought he could push his limits this far. He smirked, slightly. If he knew he could, he would have sought it out years ago.

Something brought him out of his high. He could sense a huge power, and he knew exactly to whom it belonged. He didn't have the time to enjoy his own strength. He had to get back in the game. He leapt out of the room, and flew down the hallways at top speed.

They would pay for what they did to his people.

* * *

When the smoke cleared, Dodoria was lying against a wall. His natural body armor was destroyed, and his stomach was now a pale pink. He wasn't moving or even twitching.

Zarbon stood up, lowering his blocked arms. He looked at the damage that had been done. It looked like Dodoria was dead, for good. He looked at Nappa, and they gave each other a nod. He breathed in, and reverted into his normal form.

Nappa slowly walked over to Zarbon. "Hey. Does something happen to your mind, when you transform like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it, but you were a lot meaner in that form than you are, now."

He sighed. "That doesn't surprise me. It's why I don't like using that form. It's a beast inside and out. I apologize, if I caused anymore trouble."

Nappa patted his shoulder. "It doesn't matter. That bastard's taken care of, for good. Now, we should go see on how the others are doing."

Zarbon looked over his shoulder. It was a shame. Even though they never got along, it was still disappointing to see his closest co-worker being turned into such a bloodthirsty monster, like that. He probably should have seen it coming, but it was still hard to swallow.

He waved off the rest of his musings. What was done was done; they couldn't change it. "I agree. We should."

Zarbon and Nappa started running back to the other side of the palace. Right when they were about to turn the corner, they heard a noise. They looked over their shoulders and gawked. Dodoria wasn't there, anymore. They both immediately went on their guard. He couldn't have gotten far, in that condition.

Suddenly, Zarbon was slapped aside, and on the floor. A foot stepped on his head, forcing it onto the ground. Dodoria cackled, above him, as he grunted in pain.

Yes, he was still gravely injured, by Dodoria was still standing. Nappa couldn't believe his eyes. Even a Saiyan would have been dead, with that many injuries. Dodoria quickly grabbed him by the neck, and forced him off the ground. His hand crushed Nappa's windpipe, and his foot was slowly squeezing Zarbon's head onto the jagged rubble. They struggled, but his stance and grip were too firm.

"I thought you would have learned this, by now," Dodoria said. "You should never leave anything behind, lest it bite you in the ass, later. Such as shame that you'll have to die just to get this point across."

Suddenly, there was a gust of wind. Then, Nappa was dropped onto the floor, and Zarbon was no longer held down by Dodoria's foot. Nappa took several deep breaths, and rubbed his neck, while Zarbon rubbed his aching head.

They looked up and were shocked by what they saw. Dodoria convulsed, and gasped for air. There was a fist sticking straight through his chest, where his heart was. And they both knew the one who had done it.

"Vegeta," Nappa said, in awe.

Dodoria looked down at Vegeta in shock. He wore a cold, emotionless glare, not even showing a sign of anger.

He coughed up blood. "V-Vegeta… p-please show mercy!"

Vegeta spoke in a low and threatening voice. "After all the years of being spat on by you; after all that I know you've done to my race; and after what you did to her, you expect me to show you mercy?"

"N-no! I'm s-s-sorry! Please! Together, w-we can b-ring down Frieza…!"

He had heard enough. He brought his other hand to his face and blasted Dodoria's head off of his body. When his body fell to the floor with a thud, Vegeta pointed his palm towards it and blasted it completely, leaving nothing left.

Nappa blinked. He never would have thought that Vegeta could be so ruthless; he never thought he had it in him. Dodoria certainly had it coming, but it was still a shock to see someone he knew since they were an infant kill someone so completely. He and Zarbon looked at each other; he was just as shocked.

Vegeta turned on his heel and walked over to Nappa and Zarbon. Nappa knew how to read him well enough to recognize the concern in his eyes. "Are you alright," he asked.

They glanced at each other once more, and stood back up. "Yeah," Nappa said. "We're fine."

He nodded, as his shoulders relaxed. "What's going on?"

"We staged a coup to take over the palace. Zarbon and I got stuck fighting Dodoria."

"The rest of the army was advancing successfully, last I saw," Zarbon continued. "I don't know what's happened, since our fight began."

Vegeta grunted. "Well, then: we better go check." He spun on his heel and marched down the hallway. The other two quickly followed. With the prince on their side, they would finish this with no problem. Then, they could focus on the real threat.

* * *

Bulma pushed her palms downward and blasted herself into the air, hoping to fly over Frieza's head. As she tried to aim in the air, her attack missed him by a foot. She tried again, but she still missed her mark. Frieza turned around to look up at her. He was smiling at her, with an amused glint in his eyes.

She powered up and rushed towards him, aiming to blast him head on. He simply jumped out of the way, and flew behind her. She turned around and started throwing rapid punches at his chest. He didn't even block. He just stood there, and took every blow.

She pulled her hand back and punched him right in-between his pecks. He only grunted, in surprise. Why wasn't he attacking her back? He was frothing at the mouth not even a few minutes ago to get his hands on her. Even with Piccolo, he was fighting back a little bit. Where did all of that go?

Something clicked for her. He wasn't taking this fight seriously, at all. He was toying with her.

She lifted her knee, to kick him in his knees. He turned around, grabbed her leg with his tail, and threw her away from him. Bulma stopped herself in midair. She was starting to get angry. She started firing random ki-blasts from her hand, aiming them towards him. He gracefully leaned side to side, avoiding each and every blow.

Bulma jumped back and raised her hands, forming an energy ball in between them. She chucked it at him. Frieza stood still, as it came towards him, and then whacked it with his tail, sending it back to her. Bulma dodged the attack, as it flew past her. The ball exploded in the distance. She glared back at him. He was still calm.

"Tell you what: to make this more interesting, how about I fight you using only one of my hands? Maybe you'll fare a bit better than the Namekian I met earlier did."

She wanted nothing more than to blast that smirk off of his face. She closed her eyes and breathed. Nail always told her not to let her anger get the better of her. Getting upset will only make things worse. She breathed in and out. When she opened her eyes, Frieza was still looking at her, waiting for an answer.

"Fine," she said. "Have it your way."

Bulma rushed towards him, throwing a punch in his face. Frieza moved to the right, and the attack missed him. Frieza suddenly elbowed her in the back, catching her off guard. He grabbed her ponytail and pulled her up to him, so he could look at her.

He chuckled. "Come now, Bulma: where's all of that confidence you had just a few moments ago? Let me see that brilliant power you've been keeping hidden in you."

He let go of her hair and punched her in the gut, making her yelp. She held back tears of pain, and tried to jump back. She pulled her hands back, and fired two blasts at him. He disintegrated each blast with his right hand.

"That's not going to be good enough, is it? Are you still holding back or is this really your limits? Such a shame: you go through all the trouble of coming back and regaining your power, and this is all you can do. You really have been a disappointment, Bulma: first the Dragon Ball, and now this."

She threw her hands up and started firing random blasts at him, hoping that one would hit him. She didn't even come close. He didn't even need to dodge most of them. She lowered her hands, and slumped over, panting hard.

"Are you done with the theatrics, yet? I'd like to actually fight you, eventually."

She glanced down. Piccolo didn't look like he was done gathering his energy, yet. If she couldn't hurt him, she'd have to stall him.

"Tell me this first, Frieza," she said. "Why are you killing the Saiyans? Without them, you don't have any people to rule over."

If he had a brow, it would be raised at her question. Amusement glittered in his eyes. "You're curious. I don't see why not. First – how much do you know about my family – the Colds?"

Perfect. He was indulging her questions. She just had to keep this up for a little longer. "I know how feared you are, in the galaxy. Nothing much, besides that."

"My family has run a galactic-wide empire for generations. We offer planets under our control economic security and safety in return for tribute – usually goods and soldiers. A fair trade, on our account: they get more out of it than we do. However, then we get the planet that just can't keep up with the tributes. When that happens, we purge it. Do I need to explain that to you, as well?"

He was talking so casually about genocide and extortion. And it had been going on for generations. She never would have realized how closed off she was, back on Earth. "No. I get the concept," she said, her voice wavering, with anger.

"After the purging, we sell the planets to the highest bidder. If they can't pay up, the cycle continues. Ever since I was a young boy, I wanted to be a part of this trade. However, my father named my brother as his successor. That's when I decided that I was going to take matter into my own hands. I went around from planet to planet, looking for a suitable place to start my empire – Planet Vegeta was the most suitable. In fact, I just managed to get a deal for another race to move in, once I've exterminated all the Saiyans. The easiest way to get the resources under my control was overthrowing the monarchy."

She rushed him, to punch him. He grabbed her wrist and kept her there, as she was seething with anger. He didn't make a move to attack her.

"So, you're building your empire on fear and lies. What are you going to do, once someone catches on and goes against you?"

He shrugged. "I'll kill them, before they become a problem. You've certainly taught me to contain threats early."

She lifted her leg to kick him, but he caught it with his opposite hand.

"What about Vegeta? Why are you keeping him, alive? You killed his father – he has every reason to go against you!"

Realization hit him. "So, you were the one I sent down to his cell, weren't you? I'll give you credit – I never would have guessed it was you."

"Answer my question," she yelled.

He let go of her limbs and circled her. "I was going to kill him, but then I realized how much potential he has – much more than the rest of the Saiyans. It would be a waste to kill him, before he reached his full strength. But I knew he wouldn't submit to any normal torture: he's far too stubborn for that.

"Instead, I locked him in that cell. My guards were all faceless and voiceless, leaving him cut off from any interaction with another human. Slowly, his mind would begin to break. It might take a while, but I'm a very patient man. Either way, the moment he broke, I'd be there to rebuild him into the perfect soldier – one that would serve me loyally without any reservations or emotions getting in the way. And with his limitless strength, he would slowly become the most powerful weapon I've ever owned."

Something inside of Bulma snapped, as he spoke. Just when she thought Frieza couldn't get anymore cruel and heartless, he talks about turning Vegeta into a weapon. Her fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white.

Frieza's tail slithered underneath her chin, turning her head towards him. He tsked, as she glared at him, with clenched teeth. "Don't make that face. I could have killed him, but now he has a new opportunity to gain – you should be relieved, really."

That was it.

Bulma's fist flew forward, and she landed a punch right in his jaw. She brought her hands up above her head, and slammed them down on him, sending him falling to the ground. Her palms flew up, and she formed another energy beam in her hands.

"MASENKO, HA!"

She sent it down towards Frieza. He only barely managed to grab onto it, still shocked by this sudden burst of power. As he pushed it back, she pushed more and more of her energy into it. She was ignoring every lesson she had about conserving energy, but she didn't care. She even forgot about Piccolo's attack. This monster needed to be killed, and she had to be the one to do it. As it got closer to the ground, a crater began to form. She kept pushing every drop of her energy reserves into this attack.

"DIE, YOU MONSTER!"

She finally heaved the last of her energy into the attack towards him. The ball hit the ground and it exploded into a bright cloud of dust and smoke, completely leveling the ground beneath it.

Bulma was panting, as she was slowly descending to the ground. She barely had enough energy to fly. She stared at the smoke cloud, waiting for it to clear.

As it cleared, she panicked. Frieza wasn't there, at all. There wasn't even a hole where his body might have been. That couldn't have been enough energy to destroy him like that. It wasn't.

She heard a teleportation whoosh, from behind her. She turned around, with a snarl on her face.

"Well done," Frieza said. "You actually did have a bit of power in you. I'm honestly impressed. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough."

He suddenly grabbed her neck, and squeeze. Bulma kicked and struggled to get free, but Frieza had her in a death-lock. He pointed his finger towards the middle of her face. She could feel the heat radiating from it. She glared at him, daring him to kill her and be done with it.

Right when he was about to zap her, he was hit by a ki-blast right in the back. He dropped her, and she went falling towards the ground, like a dead weight. Before she hit, Piccolo caught her, in his arms.

She blinked, looked up and Piccolo, and then around quickly. "What happened?"

He practically dropped her on the ground, and looked back up at Frieza. "Someone hit Frieza right when he was about to kill you. I don't know what. Now, I need you to hold this." He handed her a small corked bottle, with an inscription on it. It simply read 'demon seal'.

"Is it ready?"

"As ready as it will ever be. Hold that and open it when I tell you to. As soon as I get him in, you seal it, again."

Frieza was up in the air, looking around frantically. "WHO DID THAT," he yelled. He glared at Piccolo. "WAS IT YOU, SLAVE?!"

Piccolo smirked. "On your left."

He turned around and nearly keeled over in shock. The Namekian he had left to die was standing there, pointing his palm towards him.

Bulma beamed. "It's Nail!"

Frieza stuttered. "H-how did you?! You were half dead!"

Nail chuckled. "It wasn't thorough enough."

He clenched his teeth. He could not believe that these pests kept coming back. He sped towards Nail, ready to rip out his heart.

Piccolo crossed his arms, and pointed his pointer and middle finger upwards, stopping his charge. Frieza looked around; trying to figure out what was stopping him.

"Take this," Piccolo yelled. "MAFUBA!"

He threw his hands out towards Frieza, and a long green wave emitted from it. It spiraled around him, completely engulfing him. He shrieked, as it began to stretch him and pull him out from where he was standing. He tried to break free, but the wave was too strong. His screams became more distorted, as he began to cry and curse his adversaries for outsmarting him.

"DAMN YOU, VERMIN," Frieza screeched. "I AM THE MIGHTY FRIEZA! YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU CROSSED ME!" The wave spun him around and around in a spiral, trapping him with no hopes of escaping.

"Now, Bulma!"

Bulma uncorked the bottle, opening the top. Piccolo brought his hands up, and threw them downwards, aiming it for the bottle. As the wave hit the cap of the bottle, Bulma braced her feet to the ground, feeling herself pushed back by the force of it. The wave was forced into the bottle until there was nothing left. As soon as it did, Bulma secured the cork and pushed it down.

Several tense seconds passed, and they could all breathe a sigh of relief.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net August 26, 2017

The Saiyan army had Frieza's forces in a corner. Their soldiers were going down left and right, and others were deflecting onto the Saiyan's side, just to stay alive. The remaining officers didn't know what to do. They couldn't surrender: Frieza would have their heads, if they did that. But if they did surrender, they'd at least live to tell him that.

Suddenly, the room went quiet. The soldiers stopped shooting their guns. The Saiyans stopped firing at the soldiers, and everything was still. A young and scared soldier went running through the ranks and back to the officers.

"Officers, you're wanted in the front for negotiations," he stuttered.

"Who wants us in the front? Who do you take orders from, soldier?"

"T-the orders of King Vegeta!"

All of them suddenly got nervous. They knew something was up, when that transmission went out, earlier. They didn't think that he would be up and running around, again.

"Well," one of the officers said to the other. "What do we do?"

The officer pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed in through it. "We have to go up and see what he wants."

Negotiations between the officers and Vegeta did not take long. He was surprisingly merciful, and gave them an ultimatum – leave Planet Vegeta and never come back, or be punished for treason. They would be given half-an-hour to see themselves out before they were kicked out of the palace. They agreed to it, knowing they had no other options. By the hour, all of Frieza's army was gone.

The Saiyans had won their home back.

Vegeta and Nappa walked back to the palace, after making sure the soldiers had left. "Nappa," he said, "what was your plan?"

"Care for as many of our sick and wounded as we can, and wait for Frieza to return, so that we can take him out."

Vegeta stopped, and didn't look back at him. "How many are there?"

"I'm not sure. There were no more than ninety of us, when we left the hideout. About thirty of them are hiding, in the city. They were too injured to fight."

He grunted. "I want all of them back in the palace and taken care of – food, medicine, whatever they need. Get as many able-bodied men as you can to carry them back to the palace."

"Yes, your majesty."

Vegeta glanced over his shoulder, at Nappa. "Don't refer to me as that, Nappa – you're not my subject."

He couldn't help but smile. "Sure, Vegeta."

Vegeta faced forward and continued back to the palace, with Nappa following close by. Something had changed about Vegeta. He was acting much more responsible: authoritative, even. It seemed like he was taking his position seriously. He never thought that would happen. Nappa wished that the decimation of their race wasn't the trigger for it, but he was proud of him, nonetheless.

* * *

Piccolo fell onto his knees, fatigued by the Mafuba. Bulma stood there, looking down at the bottle in her hands. She was having a hard time processing this. Her top-of-the-head idea managed to work. Frieza was trapped and he couldn't come back out, again. He covered her mouth, and laughed once, as she beamed.

"Holy… We did it! We really did it! We won!"

She giggled and closed her eyes. She jumped in place, ecstatic from the revelation.

Piccolo grabbed onto her leg, before she could jump again. He gave her a gentle glare, with a small smile on his face. "Give me the bottle, before you break it." She laughed awkwardly as she handed the bottle back to Piccolo. Immediately after, she started jumping again, still over the moon.

She blinked and looked back up. Nail was still standing on that plain, away from them. She jumped up and flew over to him. Her flight was shaky, as she was low on energy, but she managed to make it over to him. He was smiling at her.

"Nail!" She ran up to him and hugged him around the waist. He grunted, in surprise, but laid a gentle hand on her head and tossed her hair.

Piccolo watched, as Bulma and Nail were reunited. He couldn't take his eyes off of him. He had never met another Namekian, other than Kami. This one was so amicable and open. So many questions were in his head. Was the rest of his race, like this? Could he have been like this, had it not been for his father? He stopped his train of thought. Who said that he still couldn't become that way? He didn't have to think like this, any longer. He was free – he could become whomever he wanted, now. He wasn't defined by his father or his masters any more. The past was in the past, and he could finally move on with his life. He stood back up and flew to join the others.

Nail was recounting his brawl with Frieza to Bulma. He had just gotten to the point where he had regenerated his arm. After that, Frieza had planned on killing him, but then he got wind of the rebellion, and left completely enraged. Nail did look particularly worse for the wear, with scuffs, bruises, and cuts covering his body. However, he talked about it with a degree of casualness. It was as if he had already gotten over it.

"I'm so happy you're okay," Bulma said. "How did you get here?"

"I felt the transformation happening, from where he left me. I came as fast as I could, to see if you needed my help. I'm glad I made it, when I did."

"So am I! The way he talked about you, I thought Frieza might have…" She paused, not wanting to entertain the thought of someone she admired so much being dead. If Nail had died, she didn't know what she was supposed to do. How was she supposed to face the Grand Elder, if he had?

Nail grimaced, as he got down on his knees, to be at her level. "Don't think about that – we're both alive and well. I managed to see how you were using your skills against Frieza. You didn't back down once, and I couldn't be more proud."

"He's right," Piccolo said. They both turned to see him. "You were really brave out there, kid. I didn't think you had it in you."

She beamed. He smirked back down at her. "Well," she said. "We couldn't have done it without your help. Thank you."

* * *

Vegeta was replacing his busted armor with a repaired model. Unfortunately, all that they had left was what Frieza's men had left behind. The traditional Saiyan armor was destroyed, amidst the takeover. He chose an older model of traditional armor. It was identical to the one he wore, when he snuck out of the palace.

He couldn't believe that was only a month ago. He felt like he had aged ten years since then. So much had happened in that small amount of time, and so much had been lost that he could never get back.

His fist clenched, and he relaxed, before putting on a clean set of gloves. What was done had been done; they couldn't do anything to reverse the damage that Frieza caused. All they could do now was look forward, and hope for the best. When that bastard returned, he'd have to contend with a full Saiyan army – he wouldn't stand a chance against a mob of angry warriors.

Someone knocked on the door right when he finished dressing. Staying on his guard, he walked up and opened the door. It was Zarbon.

He bowed. "Your majesty, Nappa said that the injured had all been brought back to the palace. Many are already making speedy recoveries."

"Good." He walked passed Zarbon and down the hallway, hoping to greet some of his people.

"Your majesty, please wait." He paused and turned around, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Zarbon got down on one of his knees, in front of him. "I apologize for everything. I never would have guessed that Frieza would do something so drastic. I had the chance to stop this before any of this happened, and I didn't."

"Get up, Zarbon. You have nothing to apologize for." Zarbon's eyes widened and he looked up. "Nappa told me all that you've done to help our rebellion. You didn't let Frieza's threats stop you. You did more than any of his others soldiers would have. And you have our eternal thanks."

Zarbon got back onto his feet, astonished by Vegeta's forgiveness, especially after how merciless he was against Dodoria. "Thank you, your majesty. I promise I will do everything I can to continue to help you fight against Frieza."

Vegeta nodded, spun on his heel and continued down the hallway. Out of all of Frieza's lackeys, Zarbon was the only one he'd call a good man. He wasn't surprised, when Nappa spoke of his bravery in defying Frieza. He was the only one of them that treated the Saiyans with respect. It was only fair that he received respect, in return.

He reached the main entrance, looking over the room. All of the medical equipment had been moved there, so the injured would be treated quickly and efficiently. All the Saiyans were taking advantage of the temporary peace, and relaxed for the first time in over a month.

As he walked further into the room, all eyes were on him. Soon, they began to bow around him, some even trying to get on their knees. They looked at him with admiration and respect – something he had rarely been shown before. The closest to this scale was when he gave that speech, following his father's death. But this was different. Everyone here had been through hell, together. There was a sense of unity and togetherness that he hadn't experience, before.

"Yeah, go Vegeta!"

The silence was broken by someone clapping in the back. He looked up and nearly rolled his eyes. Raditz applauded with a cheesing grin on his face.

Vegeta cursed under his breath. "Go back to your business," he told the crowds, as he marched back to his annoying friend. Soon, everyone went back to what they were doing, and the room was filled with quiet talking.

Raditz was lying on his stomach, while someone was taking care of the whip marks on his back. He was still grinning at him, though his applause stopped. He laid his hands underneath his chin. "So, how are you?"

Vegeta groaned, and ran a hand down his face. "I'm seriously considering what would be the best way to break your neck."

Raditz laughed. "Good to see you too, man. We were all worried about you, but you look good. Did you escape, or something? Frieza couldn't have been that kind to you."

"He wasn't, unless you consider being locked in a room with no food for a month a kindness. And I don't remember how I got out – I thought it was a hallucination at first."

Raditz leaned his fist on his cheek. "Tell me about it."

Vegeta leaned against a wall. "I remember someone meddling with the chains, trying to break me out. They were whispering to me, and telling me to hang on a little longer. The next thing I knew, I was in the regeneration pod. Then, I heard some downhearted-sounding muffling. I blacked out, after that."

Raditz's eyebrows rose, as if he understood. "Sounds like you've got a guardian angel looking over your shoulder."

Vegeta grunted. "Maybe." He looked down at Raditz, who was giving him a knowing look. "Why the hell are you looking at me, like that?"

"Nappa didn't tell you about the extra help we got, did he?"

"He did – some Namek and another person who wanted to be anonymous."

Raditz nodded. "Oh yeah, that other person was really brave. Came all the way here from Namek just to help. They thought they caused this whole thing, and wanted to make everything right. Real special one, that person is."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you going on about?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just hope you get to meet them, soon. You deserve each other, honestly."

Vegeta's jaw dropped. What the hell did he mean, by that? He growled, and walked away from him. He was just speaking in riddles to mock him; it wasn't worth the effort to think about.

Raditz just smiled. He couldn't wait to see the look on his face, when he saw Bulma, again.

* * *

The trio of heroes was standing on the plain, looking out over the destruction. It was hard to believe that such an explosive battle had taken place, here. Bulma never would have thought that any of it was possible. When she took that job offer all those years ago, she thought it would go down like any other job – make new friends, gain some experience, and go home with happy memories. That certainly did happen, but with a whole lot more excitement.

Bulma saw that Piccolo was still holding the bottle. "So, what's happening to him, in there?"

Piccolo glanced down at the bottle. "He's trapped in a tight void; a colossal amount of power trapped in a tiny living space. He'll remain in there for the rest of the days. He should be grateful that he never got to wish for immortality."

"You know, that's probably what he deserves." She looked over at Nail, who was staring at the distance. "Hey, what is it?"

"It's odd: I can't sense any chaos back at the palace – everyone seems very calm. I think the Saiyans may have won their battle."

Her eyes widened and her smile grew. "Really?! That's great! We should probably go tell Nappa and Zarbon the good news, and figure out what we're going to do with the bottle. After that: back to Namek!"

"You're not staying?"

Her smile faltered, slightly. She glanced at Piccolo, who looked equally confused. They both thought she was going to stay with the Saiyans, and she knew Piccolo was thinking of Vegeta. She sighed, and looked down. "I can't. I've done enough to them, already. They probably never want to see me, again, now that it's all over."

Nail was even more confused. "Nappa was welcoming to you. And what about the one with the long hair you were talking to – he seemed friendly."

"They're just exceptions. And I just want to go home – back to Earth. I think I've had enough excitement, with aliens and evil overlords." That part was true. She really missed her family, and she wanted to be with them, again.

Piccolo was the first to speak up. He nodded. "Sure, kid. Let's get going."

"The ship is close by," Nail said. "We'll get back to the palace faster, in that."

"Well," Bulma said. "Let's get going!"

Piccolo supported Nail, putting his arm over his shoulder. The trio was set to take off into the air, and head for the ship.

Piccolo suddenly stopped, as he felt something buzzing, in his hand. He looked down - the bottle was shaking slightly. The shaking increased with every second. His eyes widened, and he pressed his other hand on the cork. He gritted his teeth, as he pushed as much force onto it as he could.

Nail looked over at Piccolo. "What is it? What's wrong?" Bulma turned around, after hearing what Nail said. Piccolo was barely holding onto the bottle, as it shook violently in his hands. Suddenly, it fell out of his hands, and exploded with a bright red light.

The dust settled to the ground and the light faded. Their eyes widened, in fear. Frieza was floating, mid air, panting hard. He looked down on himself. When he saw the trio, his eyes narrowed and gleamed with pure malice.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net September 9, 2017

Piccolo snarled at Frieza. He thought it was all over. No one had ever broken free of Mafuba like that. He never could break out of the Dragon Ball, no matter how hard he tried. It was the strongest seal in the universe. If he wished to imprison Kami in petty revenge, he could have, and he couldn't do a thing about it.

Was Frieza just too powerful to be contained?

"Well done, maggots," Frieza hissed. "You actually managed to pull a fast one on me. I've never had a call quite so close. Only now, you've managed to make me angrier than I've ever been in my entire life!"

Nail pushed himself off of Piccolo, and took a fighting stance. Piccolo soon followed. If Frieza wasn't going down like that, then they had no choice but to fight him, again. However, they both knew that they weren't Frieza's main target.

"Bulma," Nail said, quietly. "Get to the ship and go back to Namek. Find the Grand Elder and come up with the wishes we need to fix everything. Don't wait for me."

She looked up at him, in shock. Nail always told her to persevere and never give up, and now he was telling her to run. Where did this come from? "No. There-There has to be a way to get out of this, isn't there?"

"Not this time. Surviving a fight like this includes knowing when to retreat. I'll hold off Frieza for as long as I can, but you need to get out now."

His voice sounded so hopeless. It couldn't have been as bad as that. She looked at Piccolo. "Piccolo, what about-"

"Do what he says, Bulma," Piccolo said. "I won't be joining you, either."

Something about his tone of voice made her realize how serious the situation was. He looked over his shoulder at her, with a deadly serious glare in his eyes. She hesitantly nodded.

Piccolo and Nail glanced at each other, and sprinted for Frieza. They punched and kicked at him, but couldn't hand a single blow. Frieza was acting as if they were an annoyance, instead of a genuine threat.

Bulma waited until she was sure that they had his full attention. Then, she turned around, powered up as much as she could, and flew away.

Frieza elbowed the two Namekians in their necks, stopping their attacks. Then, he flew off after the Earth girl.

Bulma only got away by a few yards before Frieza stopped her in her tracks. He floated in mid-air completely still. All she could do was stare at him with wide, fearful eyes.

"Don't stop on my account. I always enjoy a moving target."

Bulma shut her eyes, clenched her fists, and flew in another direction. She looked down below her. If she could get to a hiding place, maybe she could wait for Frieza to get bored and then make her escape.

A zap echoed in the air. Bulma screamed as a burning hot beam struck her right through her shoulder. Her left hand grabbed it, as she writhed in pain. A small hole went all the way through her body, tearing through her skin and muscle. Soon, another came, striking her inner knee. She felt her patella shatter, and she keeled over. She was slowly descending to the ground, as pain coursed through her.

She cried out once more, as a beam went right through her chest, just missing her vital organs. Her hand clutched her breast, as she hit the ground. She tried to control her breathing, as she was beginning to hyperventilate. She could hear Frieza stalking up from behind. She tried crawling away, wincing when her broken knee dragged on the ground.

He grabbed her long vest and tore it off of her. He then roughly grabbed her by her hair, and threw her onto her back. The ponytail snapped, letting her hair fall around her head.

Piccolo rushed for him, but Frieza pushed him backwards with an energy pulse, not even bothering to look at him. Instead, his eyes were on the constant thorn in his side. Almost single-handedly, she had made his quest for the throne so much more difficult that it should have been. And no matter how hard he tried, he never got rid of her.

It was finally time for her to be put in her place.

He slammed his foot down on her chest wound, making her scream. He dug his claws into her flesh, tearing her clothes and drawing blood. She tried to lift a hand to pry them off of her, but he zapped it, and she cried out. Sweat and tears were running down her face, as she endured the worst pain she had ever felt in her entire life.

Right when he removed his foot, he drove his knee into her chest. He continued doing this right above her beating heart. She felt her ribcage cracking, and she shrieked with every blow. She lost count of how many times she thought that her heart would give out.

She rolled onto her stomach, writhing and convulsing. Even after all the training and all that she went through, it wasn't enough. She was finally beginning to understand how helpless she truly was.

"Have I taken all the fight out of you, already? I promise that we're only just getting started."

Piccolo hit the ground with a loud thud. He jumped back up and knelt down. He had to think of a strategy. There was no way that Frieza was going to go easy on Bulma, after all the trouble he caused her.

He heard grunting next to him. Nail tried to sit up, but fell onto his back, again. The move that Frieza had pulled on him was enough to incapacitate him, completely. "I'm surprised," he said. "You're more than I expected. She spoke highly of you, but your powers outclass even the great Namekian warriors of old."

Piccolo shook his head. He didn't have time for his ramblings. He needed to get back in there. He positioned himself, ready to jump back into the battle.

Nail continued. "But I fear even your powers may be wasted. It is a shame that you couldn't find a way to reunite with your other half."

That certainly caught his attention. Piccolo turned back around. Nail was just smiling at him, slightly. "He may have knelt before you."

He was obviously talking about remerging with Kami. The thought alone was enough to disgust him. They split all those years ago, for a reason. He had no interest in holding up any of his duties or becoming a goodie two-shoes.

But what if what he said was true?

He looked down at Nail. "Even if you're right, there's no helping it now. Kami and I split for a reason, and I'll never be apart of him, again."

"Then… merge with me."

Piccolo blinked, and his eyes widened.

"I might not seem like much, in this state, but I carry the proud tradition of our people's warriors. You, yourself, will remain unchanged. My personality will evaporate and only my strength will remain. I swear on my honor that is true."

"And why should I believe you?"

"Please, trust me. You must only place a hand upon me. I don't know how much time we have left."

Another scream filled the air. Piccolo looked up. Frieza had slashed Bulma across her back. His tail was lit up by a small ball of energy on its tip. He seemed to like the reaction it got out of her, and repeated it across her arm. His foot was pressed firmly on her head, keeping her from fighting back. He continued to slash her exposed flesh with fast flicks of his tail. Her energy was fading fast, and all she could do was cry and scream.

He snarled, and looked down at Nail. "Fine. We'll… try it." He knelt down, next to him. "Let me make something clear: if I think you're up to something, I'm pushing out right back out and leaving you to your fate."

Nail chuckled. "How kind of you."

Piccolo looked back up at Bulma. "Hold on for a little bit longer, kid," he said, quietly. "I'm on my way." Then, he was finally about to put his hand on Nail.

Frieza lifted his foot off of Bulma's head. Dirt and sand clung to the sweat and saliva covering her face. She didn't have the energy to cry or scream, anymore. Her throat was raw and sore, and she could barely keep her stinging eyes open. She laid her forehead down on the red soil. She didn't know how much more of this she could take.

"And the spark goes out," Frieza said, above her. "It's sooner than I would have liked, but I believe my point has been made." He kicked her onto her back. He knelt in front of her, and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt.

"You are by far the biggest fool I have ever met: you thought you could stand up to the most powerful being in the galaxy without any repercussions. Without the Dragon Ball, you're positively worthless."

She couldn't even bear looking at him, knowing how much she failed. He didn't need to tell her any of that; she knew.

He pressed his palm on her chest, right above her heart. "Give my regards to the Saiyans on the other side."

Before he could push his energy through her, he was suddenly thrown into a pile of rubble by an unknown force. He hit the rocks with a loud crash, creating a cloud of dust.

Piccolo lifted his hand off of Nail's chest, before he could begin the merging. What was that incredible power that he was feeling? It came so fast that Frieza wasn't even able to react to it.

He looked back at where Frieza once stood. His shock began to fade. Instead, a small smirk formed on his face.

"W-why have you hesitated," Nail asked.

"Consider yourself lucky: we might not have to merge, after all."

Frieza quickly emerged from the rubble. He had just about enough of the humiliation parade. Whoever managed to catch him off guard was going to pay.

He looked up and his eyes widened. Vegeta was standing across from him, with his arm out to the side, standing protectively in front of the Earthling. He wore a cold and emotionless expression, and his eyes were flickering with a tranquil fury that he had never seen on anyone, before.

Frieza gritted his teeth, wanting to scream. Instead, he closed his eyes, and breathed in. He had to keep his composure. These people weren't worth his anger and frustration; he was still above them. He smiled, slightly, before opening his eyes.

"Hello, Vegeta. What a surprise to see you up and about."

He didn't say anything. He just kept glaring at him. Frieza continued to try and egg him on.

"Have the Saiyans already won, back at the palace? I suppose it doesn't matter. You'll all suffer the same fate, in due time."

He still had no reaction. Instead, he turned around a knelt close to the ground. Frieza blinked several times. He was certain that he would have gotten at least a word out of him.

Vegeta knelt down, in front of Bulma. He lifted a finger to her neck, sighing in relief when he felt a pulse. He pressed his palm to her cheek, gently. He brushed away some of the dirt and sand on her face, with the back of his gloved hand. She groaned, softly, before blinking her eyes open. They slid shut again, before she could look at him. His hand clenched slightly, on her face.

"Be careful with her, Vegeta," Frieza said. "She's more fragile than I anticipated."

Vegeta was seething, but he refused to give Frieza the reaction he wanted. He was just egging him on, and trying to get him to unleash his anger in one burst. He pushed his temper aside, and went back to business at hand.

Gingerly, he lifted Bulma off of the ground, and into his arms. He flew across the plane, and over to the two Namekians. Piccolo stood up, as he approached him. He looked down at her, and carefully gave her to Piccolo.

"Take her to the palace, and have her healed," Vegeta ordered. Piccolo nodded at him. He balanced her in one arm, and grabbed Nail by his arm.

"You better take care of this monster," he said.

"I plan to."

Frieza was getting bored. He was eager to put the monkey prince in his place, and he was doing nothing to indulge him. He would have thought that one of those comments would have gotten to him, but he was completely ignoring him. His tail hit the ground, as he watched him converse with the Namekian.

He was tired of being ignored. He pointed his finger right at the Namekian, and fired. This would teach him a lesson on turning his back on the enemy. Right before it could hit its target, Vegeta turned around, and swatted the energy beam away from them with ease. Frieza's jaw dropped and his hand lowered, at his speed.

Piccolo was shocked, as well. He didn't even see that blast coming. What happened to Vegeta's power? He wasn't this strong, when he last saw him. It was almost as if he was an entirely different person.

"Go. Now," Vegeta ordered, again.

Piccolo nodded, and took off into the air. He looked behind him, back at the battlefield. Something must have pushed Vegeta's strength past its limits. He didn't even have to sense out his power to tell the difference. He was going up against Frieza without a fear. He didn't even say a word to him, and Frieza was already a little intimidated.

Vegeta might be their last hope.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net September 30, 2017

_Vegeta felt something flash in his mind, stopping in the middle of the hallway. He looked to the West. There was a huge power somewhere off in the distance. He concentrated hard on it. He had never felt anything like it, before. It was huge, and he felt a great amount of malice from it._

_Could that be Frieza?_

_It had to be. There was no one else on this planet that has the capability of having such power. What was he doing all the way out there? Why hadn't he returned to the palace? Vegeta stopped thinking about those questions. The "whys" didn't matter. He finally had the perfect opportunity to attack him and catch him, by surprise._

_He started running down the halls, passing every bystander. He ran through the main hall, passed all the healing Saiyans, and through the open doors._

_"_ _Your majesty!" He slowed down only slightly, when he heard a Saiyan coming up behind him. "Where are you going?!"_

_"_ _Stay here and continue on with business," he shouted. "If I don't return by the hour, alert Nappa and find me!" Vegeta powered up and took off into the sky, without any other explanation. If Nappa knew he was going to fight Frieza, he would no doubt try to talk him out of it, and only waste his time._

_Frieza was his, and Vegeta was going to put an end to his reign once and for all._

Vegeta flew down from the cliff and back onto the flat plane, standing right across from Frieza. He had been spat on and looked down on by him for his entire life. He destroyed his race and kingdom, leaving his family's entire legacy in complete shambles. It was taking every bit of restraint in him not to just pummel him into the dirt. However, he was a Saiyan of noble birth – the time for retribution would come. There was no need to be hasty with it. First, he had to bring him onto his knees.

Frieza smirked. "Well, then. You seem rather confident. You think you actually have a chance at beating me, don't you?"

"One of us is going down today," Vegeta said. "And it won't be me."

He laughed. "You really have no idea what kind of power I wield now, don't you? You might have noticed the glory my current and final form." He gestured outwards. "I have two other transformations, but your little friend pushed me into skipping to this one."

He cocked a brow. "And? You shed your armor and change your shape a bit. What could that do for you?"

"I'll be happy to demonstrate it to you, Vegeta. Then, you'll understand true terror."

The two titans clashed, shaking the surface of the planet. They moved so fast that one could not see what was going on; all they would be able to make out were flashing lights and quick movements of blue and white. The hills and plateaus crumbled, from the force of their fighting.

Each blow was met with one of equal power. Frieza and Vegeta were evenly matched, much to Frieza's chagrin. How strong had this monkey gotten? He knew Saiyans grew strong after every battle and every hardship, but how could he have gotten that much of a boost just from recovering from his torture?

Frieza wrapped his tail around Vegeta's waist and tossed him into the air, away from him. Vegeta stopped himself in mid-air and charged forward, landing a punch right in his face. Frieza kneed him in the chest and kicked him towards the ground. He pointed his finger at him and fired a small, thin beam in his direction. Vegeta jumped out of the way just in time and charged Frieza again. He only just managed to dodge the incoming blow.

Vegeta kept throwing punches at him, but Frieza dodged his every blow. However, he had him on the ropes, much as he hated to admit it. He hated exerting himself, but he had no choice but to use more of his power.

Frieza pulled his fist back and punched him hard in the gut. He teleported backwards, while Vegeta gained his breath. He pushed his palm forwards and fired a large ball of energy at him.

Vegeta saw the blast coming, as he was clutching his stomach. He pulled his hand backwards, and smacked the huge ki-blast away from him. The energy exploded, upon impact, leveling everything in the area.

"Well done," Frieza hissed. "You have gotten a bit stronger. No one has ever made me force my hand like this since my family. Now, I shall-"

He was cut off by an oncoming ki-blast, and it barely zoomed past his head. Vegeta wasn't going to give him the opportunity to gloat. This only agitated Frieza more, and he rushed right for him. Vegeta blocked his blows, even as he let more of his power free. With every hit and kick that was landed, another was given in reciprocation. Even as the fight continued, Vegeta's cool and calm façade never broke once.

The two forces were evenly matched, and both were trying to push the tide of battle into their favor.

* * *

Piccolo could still feel the fight, as he flew away from the battlefield. Vegeta's power had no limits. No matter how much Frieza tried to stay ahead, he quickly caught up to him at every turn. He was impressed, to say the least.

It was a shame that he couldn't stick around to enjoy the fireworks.

Bulma's energy was stagnant, but dangerously low. If she didn't get help soon, then he wasn't sure of how much longer she would last. Even he had trouble looking at her for too long. Burn marks were covering her arms and legs, her knee was bleeding out, and there were two burnt holes on her torso that went straight through her body. One was dangerously close to her heart.

He heard Nail grunting, underneath him. He managed to look up at him. "Stop," he said, in a strained voice. "The ship is right below us."

Piccolo looked down. Sure enough, there was a fixture sitting on the ground. It looked just like the home that he lived in, as a child. He always thought that home was odd, and he only stayed because of a note that told him to wait for someone. He never would have suspected that it was a spaceship.

Nail was pulled up and Piccolo held him over his chest, his arm completely wrapped around it. He lowered himself to the ground, and approached the ship.

Nail closed his eyes. "Piccolo."

Piccolo glanced at him, but his attention was drawn to the ship. The platform door lowered to the ground, slowly. He couldn't help but gawk, at it. He didn't remember the ship opening, with his name.

"Your name means 'another world', in Namekian. It also means 'open'." A small smirk graced his face, behind his grimace.

Piccolo rolled his eyes and jumped onto the platform, not caring how hard Nail's shins hit the hard tiles. He growled out his name, and it rose back into the ship. He dropped Nail onto the floor, and balanced his other arm under Bulma's legs.

Her skin had grown pale, and her breathing was getting shallow. She desperately needed aid.

Nail propped himself up on one of the chairs, leaning his body against it, as he clung to the armrest. "We brought some herbs from Namek. It's not much, but it might help a little."

"Where?"

"In the back."

Piccolo carefully set Bulma down on the floor, and sped to the back of the ship. Sitting on a shelf, there were a small jar of ground roots and leaves. He swiped it off the shelf and went back to the front.

"Go to her, first. We will share, whatever is left."

Piccolo already had that exact plan, in mind. He knelt down in front of Bulma, unscrewed the cap of the bottle, and poured a bit of the herbs in his hand.

"Place it in her mouth for ten seconds. Then, you'll have to get her to spit it out, again. It may require a few tries to work."

Piccolo squeezed the sides of her cheeks, opening her mouth slightly. He lifted her head upright, and slipped the herbs into her mouth. However, as each second ticked on, nothing changed. He quickly scooped them back out, when the ten seconds were up. He repeated it once more and there was still nothing.

Piccolo was starting to get irritated and concerned. "Why isn't it working?!"

"I… I don't know. It's always worked for the rest of us – it was meant to be just a holdover until a healer arrived. She should at least be breathing normally, again."

"Have you ever given it to someone who wasn't a Namekian?"

"Never had the opportunity."

Both of them put two and two together. That had to be it.

"Get this ship moving," Piccolo yelled. "We don't have time for this!" Nail tried to maneuver himself as best as he could, to the front of the ship.

Piccolo checked Bulma's pulse, again. Her heart rate was dangerously slow. It looked like she had stopped breathing. Without hesitation, he put his hand on her chest, and pushed a small pulse of energy into her body, like a defibrillator. She took a deep breath in, and her breathing continued. However, he knew it wouldn't last long enough for them to make it to the palace, and repeating his actions multiple times would probably hurt her more than it would help her. There had to be something else.

His eyes widened. Why didn't he think of that, before?

He laid his hand on her, gentler this time. He closed his eyes, and concentrated. He might have one last bit of magic left in him – the wish that Frieza never got to make. If he could find it in himself, then he could use it in whatever way he desired: he could take vengeance on Kami for imprisoning him; he could live out his father's legacy, or erase it from history. He could absolve himself of his sins, entirely.

Or he could use it to save the one person who treated him as anything other than a monster or a slave.

He breathed out, slowly, and a soft glow emitted from the palm of his hand. Her burns and bruises began to fade away. The glow engulfed the both of them, as the magic did its work. In seconds, her wounds had begun to heal. Her knee looked like it had never been broken, in the first place.

A soft noise came from her. Bulma blinked her eyes open, her vision a little blurry. Her eyes focused on Piccolo, who was kneeling above her. He breathed out, in relief, and a small smile formed on his face.

She sat up quickly, nearly knocking her forehead on his. She looked around, frantically. What happened? Where was Frieza? "Wha…?" She looked down at her clothes, and gaped at her lack of wounds. "How did…? "What the hell is going on?!" Nail was turned around and just stared at her. He was just as confused as she was.

"Frieza's last wish. I still had that last bit of magic, after all."

She looked at Piccolo. Did he really use that, on her? As the information sunk in, a small smile formed on her face. He had forgiven her, after all. Even he couldn't help the small smile forming on his face.

She was pulled out of her thoughts, when she felt a large spike in power out of nowhere. An unseen force shook the ship. She stumbled up and ran to the front window. She concentrated on the energies – one of them was definitely Frieza, but who was the other one? "What's going on? Who's fighting Frieza?"

"We were very lucky that Vegeta showed up, when he did."

Her eyes widened and she looked back at Piccolo. She couldn't have heard that right. "Vegeta?!"

He nodded. "He managed to stop Frieza, when he was wailing on you. He told me to leave the rest to him."

This was bad. This was so bad. Vegeta was barely able to stand, when she last saw him. What hope did he have, in beating Frieza? It didn't matter how much stronger he might have gotten – there was no way.

"Piccolo!"

The ship door lowered back down. She ran to the center of the ship, ready to jump.

Piccolo stretched out his arm, and grabbed her, before she could. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"I have to go back out there! I owe it to the Saiyans to keep fighting!"

"Do you want to get yourself killed?! What makes you think you can stand a chance against him, now?"

"I don't, but I still can't let Vegeta face him, alone!"

"Bulma, stop."

They stopped glaring at each other, and looked at Nail. He was propping himself up on the armrest of the captain's chair.

"You can feel Vegeta's power – he has more potential to stop Frieza now than we do. You can't rush back into battle. He'll be more worried about you than he would about stopping Frieza, and that could have disastrous consequences. We just have to hope that Vegeta has the strength to beat him."

"But… but what if he can't?"

"Then we'll just have to deal with that. I'm sorry, Bulma, but there's nothing more we can do."

Bulma slowly dropped her hand down. She looked up, and back out the window. If that was Vegeta she felt, then he had no doubt gotten stronger. But was it going to be enough? She didn't know if she could stand losing him, after all they had been through.

"Vegeta," she said softly. "You better win this."


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net October 21, 2017

Frieza threw an energy beam at Vegeta, and blocked the oncoming blast. Before he could fire back, he was kicked in the small of his back, sending him flying towards the ground. Frieza powered up and flew to the ground where Vegeta was about to land. Right as he was about to attack, again, Vegeta turned around and fired ki-blasts from his palms. Frieza jumped out of the way, but Vegeta used the force of his blast to propel him back upwards, towards his adversary.

They rushed towards each other and started throwing punches at each other. The other fighter blocked the oncoming blow, before retaliating with one of their own. They threw their fists back at the same time, and punched each other in the jaw. They were locked there for several moments, neither one wanting to let their guard down.

At the same time, they broke away, and stare each other down, from across the battlefield. Frieza knew that Vegeta was not going down easily. He was acting far more calm and collected than he would have suspected. This was giving him an advantage. If his anger broke, then his attacks would be less focused, and he'd only want to satisfy his petty revenge. Then, Frieza would have no trouble overpowering him and putting him in his place.

"Isn't it a bit too late to play hero, Vegeta," he said. "Why haven't you thrown up your white flag, yet?"

Vegeta snarled. "I will never submit to someone like you."

"You're still so stubborn. Have you ever thought that your stubbornness caused all of this?"

Vegeta pulled his fist back and aimed a punch for his face, but Frieza dodged it. A small smirk formed on his face. Perfect. He let go of him and jumped backwards, putting his hands behind his back.

"I gave you the option to submit, in return for your people's safety. It was more than a fair bargain, and I thought you would take me up on my offer. But, instead, you refused, just for the sake of your own pride. Shouldn't the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few? What should your life matter, if it meant that your race would continue to live, in peace? A good and noble king would have known better."

Vegeta clenched his fists, and snarled.

"So, don't pin all of the blame onto me, your majesty: you wrought this just as much as I did."

Vegeta sped towards him, wanting to beat him down with everything he had. He no longer cared. Frieza blocked his oncoming blows, only flinching slightly at the force of them. Frieza didn't fight back – he didn't want to expend any more energy than he needed to. Besides, he only had to wait just a little while longer before he could finally put the brat in his place.

"You can't dodge me forever, you coward," Vegeta screamed, in frustration.

Vegeta threw his arms back and fired directly at him. Frieza gracefully flew out of the way. He kept firing and firing, but not one attack hit him. He could see that Vegeta was already burning out. His attacks became more irregular and much less controlled. His breaths were hard and shallow. It wouldn't be much longer until he finally wore himself out.

Vegeta's blasts were coming at greater intervals. He hunched over, as he tried to catch his breath, again. He was not going to give up. This bastard was going to be defeated, today.

"Tired, already?"

He clenched his teeth and turned around. Frieza, once again, had a relaxed stance and smile. Vegeta swatted at him, again, but he was not fast enough.

Frieza punched Vegeta in the gut, spun around, and grasped his neck with his tail.

"I'm afraid that's not going to be enough, now is it? What happened to all that combat training you were supposed to have? If this is the best your kind can create, then it's no wonder the rest of you monkeys are all six-feet under."

Vegeta cried out, as Frieza punched him in the back. With every cry, the tail gradually tightened around his neck, choking him. Soon, he was coughing up bloody saliva. Vegeta gripped the tail as hard as he could, and desperately tried to free himself from the vice-like grip. His knuckles were turning white, and his fingers were bruising, but Frieza would not let go. Even as Frieza continued to pound his back and as he began to grow light-headed, he was not giving up.

"Well, it seems you have a bit more fight in you than your father. You do have more sense than he had."

Frieza's tail let go of him, and he kicked him in the chest and elbowed him in his neck, before he could react. Vegeta raised his head and glared at him. He pushed out his hand towards his opponent's stomach, but Frieza hit him, again, before he could fire. If it was somehow possible, Vegeta was even more seething angry than he was, before. How could he dare to talk about his father like that, after he had stabbed him in the back?

"You must get your brains from your mother. Yes, Cauli was a clever little woman. She did look at me strange, when I became the advisor – constantly giving me aside glances, and never wanting to be alone in a room with me. She was always the one to make the king second-guess my wisdom. There really was no one else he trusted and loved more. She really was too smart for her own good…"

Vegeta was dumbfounded. Why was he talking about her? His mother had nothing to do with any of this.

"There are a lot of desperate people in the universe, Vegeta. They're willing to do any job for the right price, without caring about the consequences. As long as you make it worth their while, they won't care. Not even from an anonymous request.

"And not even if they have to kill a queen."

Vegeta's mind suddenly went blank. His heart rate increased, and his temples began to pound.

Frieza paid no attention to the reaction, and continued. "She would have been detrimental to my plan, so I'm afraid she had to go. It did come with a benefit. Your father was so heartbroken and distraught by his mate's sudden passing that he needed a supportive figure to bring him back to his senses. He was so grateful that his advisor was there, to give him guidance. The poor fool never found out the truth until he was drawing his final breaths."

Vegeta's clenched his teeth, and his breathing grew ragged, and rough. His muscles quivered, as he glared at nothing. His fists clenched so tightly, his nails began to bite through his gloves, and onto his palm. Tears stung his eyes, and he paid no head to the few that fell down his cheeks.

Images seemed to flash in his vision: his mother's ashen corpse inside of her casket; his father's bare palm cupping his cheek; his people wounded and beaten.

His family.

His entire race.

All gone.

Because of him.

Vegeta shook, with a rage he had never felt, before. As his heart raced, his skin began tingling. Energy slowly began to radiate off of his body. More images flashed in his head: the city's destruction; Nappa's tired and mournful expression; the faces of everyone he had ever cared about moved through his vision.

"You," Vegeta hissed, in between his teeth. "You… damned… bastard…"

Frieza looked down, with his brow raised.

"I… I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU SUFFER!"

Vegeta threw his fists to the side, and threw Frieza off of him with the force of his ki. His pupils disappeared, and he threw his head back, letting out a warrior's scream. Lightning bolts shot down from the sky above, as he was consumed by a bright light. Frieza blocked his vision with his forearms.

The light dimmed. Vegeta's ebony hair was now glowing with a golden sheen. His dark eyes were now a jeweled teal, and a golden aura flickered and glowed around his body.

Frieza looked at Vegeta's new appearance, in confusion and surprise. Vegeta looked so different than he did, before, and completed a stunning metamorphosis. Even far away, he could feel the heat of his aura pulsing. But Saiyans were only able to transform into giant monkeys. They didn't have special forms, like his race possessed. This didn't make any sense. Judging by the way Vegeta looked down at himself; he was just as lost as he was.

"What is this," Frieza said.

That brought Vegeta's attention back to the battle. He glared at him. Frieza couldn't hold back the shudder that ran through his body. His expression was pure anger and malice.

He slowly made his way over to Frieza. His aura flared around him, as he got closer. "You destroyed my family's legacy. You hunted and murdered my people, like animals. And now… now you tell me that you killed my mother and father. You took everything from me.

"And now, I'm going to repay the favor."

Faster than Frieza could comprehend, Vegeta kicked him. While he flew in mid-air, Vegeta caught up to him, grabbed him by the neck and legs, and pushed him over his knee. Frieza let out a strained cry, as his back began to break. Vegeta kicked him up, and smacked him down to the ground, with his fists together.

The ground shook, as he hit the dirt, and the ground collapsed into a large crater. Frieza staggered back upwards, brushing the excess dirt off of him. How had this monkey gotten so powerful? His father didn't react this way, when he told him of his wife. There was no way a confession, alone was enough to set him off.

Vegeta phased in front of him, out of nowhere. Now, Frieza could look right into his eyes. He didn't look anguished. He didn't even look overly angered. However, he saw the tranquil fury that burned, behind his eyes. It held nothing but contempt for him.

For the first time in his entire life, Frieza felt fear.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on November 4, 2017

Bulma stood up. What the hell did she just feel? There was a new energy, on the battlefield. And it was incredible. She tried to concentrate on the powers. There were still two of them, but she couldn't feel Vegeta's, anymore. One of them was distinctly Frieza, but this new energy was so vast and deep. Her head was spinning, just trying to get around it.

Was that Vegeta?!

She looked up at Piccolo. He looked shocked. He obviously felt it, too.

"What is that," she asked. "Is that Vegeta?!"

"No doubt about that. His power is incredible."

"How did that happen?"

"I don't know. Frieza might have done something to set him off – I'm sure he's regretting it, if he did."

Bulma remembered what Piccolo had told her, one night – not to get in an angry Saiyan's way. It couldn't have taken that much for Frieza to piss him off. Now, Vegeta was so much stronger. His power outmatched Frieza's by so much.

A small smile formed on her face. He was going to win; she knew that he would.

* * *

Vegeta suddenly kicked Frieza in the stomach. Frieza coughed out saliva, in surprise. Before he could catch his breath, he was elbowed in the head, stunning him. Vegeta flew behind him, and kicked him into a pile of fallen rocks.

Frieza flared his ki, freeing himself. He rubbed his aching head, as he staggered back up. How much had this monkey been training? How could he have gotten so strong in such a short amount of time?

Vegeta lowered himself to the ground. He walked over to Frieza, never once taking his eyes off of him. The entire time, he kept a slow and even pace, not rushing him once.

Frieza threw his hands back, and fired a barrage of ki-blasts, trying to stop him. Behind the smoke, Vegeta was blocking every single one of the attacks. Not one managed to hit him. Frieza was seething. He rushed towards him and started throwing punched. Vegeta blocked and dodged with ease and with the same passive expression on his face.

Vegeta grabbed his fist, before he could make another hit. He slowly started squeezing his hand. Frieza writhed in pain, as he felt his bones slowly cracking beneath the pressure. He gritted his teeth, and kept trying to pull away. That was when Vegeta crushed his hand, breaking every single bone. Frieza screamed out. Vegeta only tossed the appendage down, and continued to glare at him. Frieza held his hand and looked down.

His anger flared. He couldn't believe it. The mighty Frieza was supposed to be invincible. Yet this monkey had broken his hand.

"YOU WORM!"

With his good hand, he shot out a death beam right in his face. Vegeta's head was pushed backward, as it hit him square in the chin. His golden aura disintegrated, with the hit.

He lowered his lead slowly. There wasn't a single burn mark on him. His blue eyes flared with anger, but with something else. It was as if he knew how scared Frieza had become. And that he was going to make sure he knew what helplessness truly felt like.

Frieza was speechless. He flew backwards, as he started visibly shaking. "You… You… What have you become?!"

Vegeta's lips turned up, in a wry smirk. "Come now, Frieza," he spoke in a low voice. "Surely you must know a little bit about us and our legends. You couldn't have been with us for that long without learning about them."

Once his works sunk in, he immediately froze in fear. No. That was just a myth. It was just meant to keep children from getting lazy. There was never a grain of truth to it: not even one.

"I am the last of my royal bloodline, and the rightful king of all Saiyans. The blood of my mother and father runs through my veins, and I vowed to protect my people from the likes of you.

He powered up, proudly flaring his golden aura. "I am Vegeta. AND I AM THE LEGENDARY!"

His voice bellowed and echoed throughout the air, and the planet shook with the force of his energy. All Frieza could do was stand there and stared at him, in shock. Deep in his heart, he knew that he had finally met his match. All those years of complacency and all of the ill will he had built over the years had finally caught up with him. And he was finally going to pay for the consequences.

Vegeta knocked him back to the ground. He pulled his hands behind him, and charged a large energy beam. The violet energy pulsed and glowed in his hands. Frieza did not make a move to get up and move. He only winced and writhed on the ground.

"Burn in Hell, Frieza! GALICK GUN FIRE!"

Vegeta threw his palms to the ground, directing the beam right towards Frieza. He pushed on the ball of energy, keeping it from touching the ground. His palms were burning, and he was sweating from the heat radiating off of it. As he was pushed closer and closer to the planet's surface, he had almost resigned the fact that he was going to die. Someone had beaten him, and he couldn't do anything about it. He could only lie down and accept his fate.

Then, an idea flashed in his head.

Using the energy he had left, he grabbed onto the ball of energy, and slowly began to rotate it. He invigorated the blast with his own energy, making it even more powerful than it was before. Black bolts began to strike the energy ball. Then, in one final move, he turned around and pushed it into the planet's surface, sending it straight to the planet's center.

The planet shook violently, and every being felt the powerful quake.

Vegeta had ducked his head underneath his arms, as a bright light shined from the ground below. When he looked back up, magma and lava was spouting from the massive crater that the blast had created. He could see the planet's mantle clearly. He looked back up at Frieza; he was looking a lot calmer.

"You have no idea what's going on, do you? This planet's core has been utterly decimated below our feet. Five minutes: that's all the time your precious planet has left until it's turned into a mass of rubble. I'm curious, though – how do Saiyans fair in the vacuum of space? I doubt you'll find it as effortless as I do."

So that's it. He had been caught in a corner, and his hand had been forced. Even if the fight wasn't fair, he didn't care; he wanted to survive.. Vegeta didn't know why he wouldn't expect that, from him.

"That's more time than I need," Vegeta said. "I'll crush you and have enough time to make it out of here."

Frieza laughed. "And the rest of your pathetic race will perish, with the rest of your world. I'd think that submitting would be less humiliating."

Vegeta gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. "How many times do I have to drive it through your thick skull? I will never bow to you!"

He gestured his hands outward. "Well then, strongest of your kind and so called 'legendary': show me the extent of your true power. I'll be kind enough to show the rest of mine. Go ahead: make your ancestors proud!"

Vegeta powered up and rushed towards him. Frieza did the same.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net November 11, 2017

 

Bulma had made quick use of the ship's computers, after the quake had happened. She used whatever technology she had available to try and find a cause for it. The quake was planet wide – it clearly wasn't simple plate tectonics. Using the sensors on the bottom of the ship, she scanned the surrounding areas, trying to find the source.

"Oh no…"

Piccolo rushed up behind her. "What did you find?"

"The planet's core – it's gone. It's completely unstable. I-I don't think the planet can stay intact, for much longer."

Now, Nail was intrigued. He turned towards the screen, sitting in the chair next to hers. "What?! That's impossible."

"Yeah. A huge crater leads all the way down to the inner core. It's right where we left Vegeta and Frieza. I can't see Vegeta doing something like that, so it had to be Frieza. Why would he do that, and destroy everything he built? It doesn't make sense."

"No, it does," Piccolo said. "Frieza's cheating his way to victory. Vegeta must be too powerful for him to handle, so this was his quick-route to a win. Shouldn't expect any less from the petty bastard."

"Well, we have to do something about this! We have to go warn people and tell them to evacuate or something like that!"

"We won't have time to do that and escape ourselves," Piccolo growled.

"But we can't just let them die! Then, everything we've tried would have been for nothing! There has to be a way!" She started frantically scrolling and searching through the monitor, trying to find something.

Piccolo huffed. She wasn't going to listen to reason; she was going to get all of them killed.. He lifted his hand in the air, ready to aim it at the back of her neck.

" _Hello? Piccolo? Can you hear me?_ "

Piccolo stopped and blinked. Either he was dreaming, or that was Kami he just heard. He looked around. No one could have spoken that. He was surprised it took him this long to finally start cracking.

" _Piccolo? Do you recognize me? I suppose it's been quite a while, hasn't it? I have news to give to you._ "

It really was him. "What the hell do you want, old man," he said aloud. "We're in the middle of something, so make it quick."

Bulma and Nail looked up at him. In their eyes, he was talking to himself.

"Hey," she said. "Who are you talking to?"

"Of all times, Kami thought that this was the best time to contact me, again."

Her eyes widened. "How is he doing that? Isn't he supposed to be on Earth?"

"Our minds are connected, just like our souls. Even this far across the galaxy isn't enough distance to make a difference. If you want to listen in, grab onto my arm."

"Um… okay." Somehow, this was the most bizarre thing she'd experienced, during this trip. She gently held his arm.

"Now, you were saying?"

" _Oh. I just would like to inform you that Mr. Popo has almost finished collecting the Dragon Balls._ "

"And?"

" _Well… I heard of your troubles, and I thought that the wish might be of use to you._ "

"Wait," Bulma interrupted. "Earth has Dragon Balls too?"

" _Why, yes. Of course. I created them, when I became the Guardian. Uh, Piccolo, who is this young lady?_ "

"Another time, Kami," he spoke. "She might be onto something."

"Are there any provisos? Limitations?"

" _There are a few – if a wish exceeds my power, then Shenron cannot grant it._ "

The wheels in her head were turning. "Are you able to bring a person back to life?"

" _Yes. Actually, I can bring back multiple people, provided they died under the same circumstance. Sadly, it's something I've had to do many times._ "

"Are you serious?!" Piccolo, Nail, and even Kami winced, at her loud yelling. "That's amazing!"

"It is," Piccolo said. "If we escaped now, then we could bring back all the Saiyans that were killed in the planet explosion."

"Your Dragon Balls can do that," Nail asked. "That makes them even more powerful than the Namekian balls."

As Piccolo and Nail discussed the details of the plan, Bulma stopped and thought. That plan sounded good, but she still didn't want everyone to have to die in the explosion, first. What if something went wrong? They could all get stuck in the vacuum of space. And they'd still be without a place of refuge. There had to be a better option.

Her eyes widened. Something clicked, in her head. "Kami! Can you bring that group of people back to life, if they died on a far away planet?"

" _Perhaps, but they'll have to have died within the span of a year. If they share a common death, then it's possible._ "

"How long do you think this wish would take?"

" _Mr. Popo's close to finished gathering the Dragon Balls, as I can see. It won't be very long, now._ "

She went back to the monitor, looking at the planet's stability. It didn't look close to breaking apart. She knew that it wouldn't happen all at once – it would be gradual, but she didn't know how much time she needed.

"What about… five minutes? Can you have it all done, before then?"

" _It's possible, but there's no guarantee that we'll be ready, in time._ "

"But there's a chance?"

" _Yes, of course._ "

That's just the kind of odds that she needed. A confident smirk formed on her face.

"Kid, what are you planning?"

"Kami, I have a wish: Bring everyone back to life on Planet Vegeta who was killed by Frieza and his men!"

She floored everyone that was listening. The planet was about to explode, and she was going to wish everyone back right before it happened? How hard had Bulma hit her head, during the fight?

"It's simple," she explained. "If we bring back everyone who was killed by Frieza, then we basically save the Saiyan race! If the wish gets granted in time, then we still have time to get in contact with everyone back on Namek! They promised that they'd lend a wish to us, if we needed it. So, we ask them to safely transport everyone, except for Frieza, of course, onto Planet Namek!

"Kami, how does that sound?"

" _Hmm… that sounds like quite a huge gamble. So much could go wrong._ "

"But?"

There was a pause. " _There's still hope…_ "

Piccolo scoffed. "Should have expected a hair brain scheme to come out of you."

She shrugged. "Well, if it wasn't hair brained, it wouldn't be from me, now would it?"

" _Alright. I'll alert Mr. Popo immediately. Good luck to you all._ "

* * *

The fight raged on. Neither Frieza nor Vegeta was backing down. They punched, kicked, and blasted at each other with all their might. The sky grew darker, and the only light came from their bright auras. Lighting crashed onto the planet's cracking surface, syncing with the titans clashing against each other.

Frieza had been gradually powering up, to his full power. He hated that he had to do it, just to compete with this monkey, but he was left with no choice. His muscles were slowly bulging, and he was catching up with Vegeta's moves. He was able to block faster and deliver punishing blows to his body more efficiently. It didn't take long for them to, once again, reach a stalemate. They stared each other down, from across the battlefield.

"This planet doesn't have much longer," Frieza said, as he observed his surroundings. "Three minutes left, I suppose. The rest of your pathetic race will be wiped out, and no one will miss it. Your own people didn't even get to know of your transformation."

Vegeta didn't respond.

Frieza glanced at the sky. "Do you suppose the Earthling has escaped? She's clever enough to figure out what I've done, I'm sure. It doesn't matter. No matter where she runs to, I will hunt her dow-"

Frieza was immediately cut off by a punch to the gut. It was hard enough for him to cough up blood. As Vegeta's fist dug into his stomach, his body shook with rage.

"You won't get the chance," he spoke in a low voice.

Vegeta kicked Frieza away. He teleported behind him, and pushed him towards the ground, crushing him into the dirt and soil, stunning him temporarily.

"That was for my people."

He grabbed Frieza, threw him into the air, and fired a barrage of ki blasts in his direction. Frieza quickly got back into the game, and blocked and dodged them all. Right as he was getting used to the pattern, Vegeta came up and kicked him in the back.

"That was for my family!"

Frieza screeched and started punching at Vegeta, in a fit of fury. It was ended by a hard sock in the face.

"And that was for my mate!"

The force of the punch threw Frieza into a plateau at a high speed. He crashed into the plane, and it completely collapsed.

Vegeta was breathing hard. That little display had taken a lot out of him. The pressure of his first transformation was beginning to take a toll on him. He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to hold out for. He had to finish this now.

"YOU SIMIAN BASTARD!"

Frieza caught him off guard and punched him in the back. Wasting no time, he pointed his finger at him and fired a ki blast in his shoulder. Vegeta let out a cry, before turning around, gritting his teeth.

The planet continued to deteriorate around them, but neither cared. All they could be focused on was the fight, at hand. Nothing else mattered.

* * *

"Kami!"

" _Yes, Mr. Popo. What is it?_ "

Mr. Popo looked down at the seven Dragon Balls, sitting at the foot of Mt Paozu. "All of the Dragon Balls are ready," he said.

" _Excellent. You know what to do, my friend._ "

He gestured outwards. "Come forth, Eternal Dragon, and grant us our wish!"

The sky suddenly went pitch black. Clouds began to circle above the mountain. The Dragon Balls glowed, and a bright beam flew into the sky. It began to coil, as it reached further into the heavens. The light began to dim, revealing a huge dragon. It lowered its head closer to the ground, to see who had summoned him.

"You who have gathered the seven dragon balls," his voice bellowed. "State your wish and it shall be granted."

"Oh Shenron: so many people on Planet Vegeta have died, due to the cruelty of Frieza and his men. Would it be possible to bring them back, if they died on a far off planet?"

"Hmm… I know not, but I shall try."

"Please, Shenron. Do the best you can."

The dragon looked to the sky, and its eyes glowed with a bright red.

* * *

Bulma grew teary-eyed, as she felt the energies reappear. There were so many of them, now. Her heart grew lighter, and she laughed. It worked.

"It's been done," Piccolo said. "Shenron's brought everyone back to life." He looked surprised; he didn't think that it would be done, in time.

"Yes! Yes!" She shouted, clapping her hands. She clasped her hands together and laughed. "I knew it would work!"

"Don't get too excited," Nail said. "We're not out of the woods, yet."

She sighed, and wiped her eyes. "Right." she leaned in towards the monitor, grabbed the radio attached to it, and scrolled through the settings until she could find the communicator. She kept resetting and messing with the controls, as she spoke into the receiver.

"Coming in, Planet Namek! This is an emergency! We need assistance!"

She paused, waiting for a response. "Planet Namek, does anyone read me?"

" _Miss Bulma, is that you?_ "

"Dende! Are the Dragon Balls ready?"

" _Y-yes! They're all gathered here!_ "

"Good! Summon the Dragon and tell it to wish everyone from Planet Vegeta and onto Planet Namek, except for Frieza! You got that?"

She heard the rustling of the receiver. Moori had taken over. " _Wait, Bulma. Why do all of you need to come here?_ "

Oh god, she was hoping she wouldn't have to answer questions. This was wasting time. "Planet Vegeta's going to explode in a few minutes, and we managed to revive all the dead Saiyans! We need to get off this rock now!"

" _…Alright. We'll tell Porunga to get everyone off of there._ "

"Wait! Everyone except for Frieza!"

" _Everyone except for Frieza. Is that right?_ "

"Yes! Thank you, Moori! Please, hurry!"

Bulma was so invested in the conversation that she didn't notice that Piccolo had stood up and was walking towards the door. He spoke his name and the platform began to lower. Nail managed to turn himself around to look at him. As Piccolo was about to step outside, their eyes met. They eventually nodded at each other, before Piccolo flew outside.

* * *

Dende was standing in front of the Dragon Balls, before Bulma finished speaking. Everyone in the village was gathered around, anxious for the event. Dende spoke a command in his native tongue. Just like on Earth, the sky went dark, the balls glowed, and a bright beam flew into the sky. It coiled and circled around itself, before the light took the form of a hulking dragon. It let out a roar, before it looked down at the summoner below. Any chance to see Porunga was a treat for all Namekians.

"You who have gathered the Dragon Balls and summoned me forth: speak your heart's desires."

"Be hasty, Dende," Moori shouted. "Make the wish!"

Dende's palms sweated, as he spoke the wish in Namekian: Transport everyone on Planet Vegeta onto Planet Namek except for Frieza.

* * *

Vegeta had stopped fighting suddenly. His back went straight. He looked over at Frieza. A small smirk managed to form on his face – the first one he'd seen, during this battle. "It's over, Frieza," he said.

Frieza cocked a brow, and had a smile of his own. "Glad you understand; seems you did still have some sense in you, after all."

"No. You've lost."

Now, Frieza was confused.

"Even if you survive this explosion, you've lost everything you've built up. All the trouble you went into earning out trust and stabbing us in the back has gone to waste. You'll never be able to win this back, Frieza."

His eyes narrowed. He had struck a nerve, just as he had planned. "That's quite big talk you're giving, monkey."

"Only because you can't think of the long term. Do you think you could sustain this, in the long run? You hunt your subjects down, and offer them nothing in return for subordination. You're so caught up in your own ego that you can't even run a monarchy properly.

"Look at yourself – frothing at the mouth just for a chance to beat me into submission. You're weak, and you're a fool. Even if I die and you live, you'll spend every waking day fearing the day you go to hell. Because I promise that I will be there, waiting for you." Vegeta then turned his back, and flew away, leaving him there.

Frieza seethed. How could he be so arrogant to think that he can walk away, like that? He made a complete mockery of him and his power. He made him feel fear. He forced his hand. And none of that worked. If he thought that he could just walk away from that, then he was dead wrong.

He pointed his finger into the air, forming a ball of energy. It pulsed and shook, above him. When it hit him, there was going to be nothing left. Even this all-powerful Super Saiyan wouldn't be able to withstand it.

"SAY GOODBYE, YOU FILTHY SAIYAN!"

Right as he threw the ball, Vegeta suddenly began to glow. His visage turned black, and he disappeared in a flash. The energy passed where he was supposed to be, and exploded, when it hit a ball of rocks. Lava spurted up from the hole it was located in.

Frieza's eyes widened. He looked around, trying to find him. He must be playing a trick, on him. He flew high and low, trying to find his hiding spot. But nothing was there. He had completely vanished.

He threw his arms out to the side, and let out an anguished scream, as lighting clashed with the crumbling ground below.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net November 18, 2017

Vegeta turned around. His jaw dropped. Frieza had just been behind him, but he wasn't. When he looked around, more, he discovered that he wasn't even on Planet Vegeta, anymore. He kept his guard up, waiting for an attack, but none came.

Exhaustion finally hit. He sighed, and his hair returned to its dark hue. He closed his eyes, and fell towards the ground.

Right as he was about to crash into the dirt, Piccolo swooped in, and caught him. He felt his energy begin to waver, during the fight. He wasn't sure how long it would be, before he passed out. Therefore, he left and started heading in that direction, hoping to catch up with him by the time they were transported.

He couldn't believe that worked. He had wanted to smack her upside the head, when she blurted out that idea – it was way too risk and too much could go wrong. It was a miracle that they all managed to make it, in time.

Right as he was about to head back, he stopped. He began to look around. So this was his home world. It was alien, but still familiar. As he looked around at the landscapes, a small bit of nostalgia overcame him. And yet, he wasn't floored by it, as he thought he would be. He didn't feel a sudden sense of home and place. He was so disconnected from his heritage that he felt absolutely nothing.

He shook his head. He had no time to dwell on his past. He had to get back to Bulma and the others. Once he pinpointed their energies, he hoisted Vegeta over his shoulders, and flew in that direction.

* * *

Before Bulma blinked, she was in a cold ship on Planet Vegeta. The next time she opened her eyes, she was sitting on a plain of soft grass. She looked around; she was in front of a large, clear lake, reflecting the tall trees and plateaus that dotted the landscape. The skies were pitch black, but there was no mistaking it: this was Planet Namek

Her plan had worked.

She jumped up into the air, clasping her hands together. She smiled down at Nail. He gave her a weak smile, before giving her thumbs up. She ran over and hugged him. He grimaced, and politely patted her on the back.

"We did it! We did it!"

"Y-yeah… we did..."

Her eyes widened. She had forgotten how badly in shape Nail was, amidst all of her joy. "We've gotta go find one of the healers. Where's the closest village?"

"J-just follow the Dragon – Moori's village is probably there..."

Bulma blinked. She looked around, and gawked. There was a gigantic dragon, in the sky. His torso was so muscular, and he was glowing with a golden aura. She had never seen a single creature that massive, before. In the back of her head, she felt grateful that she only had Piccolo, in the Dragon Ball she found.

She swung Nail's arm over her shoulder, and started flying low towards the Dragon. As she got closer, she recognized Dende and Moori's energies. Tears of joy managed to slip from her eyes. They had really won, today.

* * *

The Saiyans looked around, frantically. They felt like they had been whiplashed. Just a moment ago, they were still sitting in their old palace. Now, they were in a place they had never been in, before. They looked up and nearly fell down; there was a huge monster floating in the sky.

"Your first wish has been granted," it bellowed. "All living beings on Planet Vegeta, save for the one known as Frieza, have been transported to Planet Namek."

They murmured, amongst each other, not knowing what had happened. They didn't know why they were on a backwater planet like Namek, and they had no guesses as to how they got there, in the first place.

"Nappa, sir: what's happened?"

He sighed. "Beats me."

"Welcome, Saiyans."

They all immediately went on their guard, as they turned around. They were greeted by a small group of Namekians. Moori stood in the front, with a warm smile on his face.

"Good to see that Porunga has brought you all here, safely."

"Who are you," Nappa asked. "Where are we?"

"I am Moori, and you're on Planet Namek. We made a wish to bring you all here, before your planet exploded."

"Exploded," yelled one of the Saiyans in the back. "What are you talking about?! What do you know about all of this, you overgrown slug?!"

Nappa gestured his hands down. "Alright, everyone calm down. Let the man explain everything."

"One of our own went with a young woman to your planet, to take down the tyrant who ruled over you. We promised to lend them a wish, if they needed one at anytime."

He caught onto it, quickly, and he began to nod. "So you're one of Bulma's allies, then."

"Precisely. We couldn't stand back, while a tyrant ruled; we wanted to lend our aid in any way that we could."

Before Nappa could give his thanks, there was confused yelling. They turned around. The Saiyans were floored, by what they saw. Hundreds of Saiyans came running up from over the hill, towards them. As they turned more, even more Saiyans were coming in from all angles. This was far more than what was back, at the palace. Maybe a few of them had stayed hidden, but not all of them could. Frieza was thorough, with his extermination plot.

By some divine miracle, they must have all been brought back to life.

Not caring about who was watching, the Saiyans dispersed and rushed through the crowds of people. Family and loved ones were reunited. They exchanged handshakes and salutes with each other, their eyes shining with emotions. Some went further, and embraced their loved ones without any shame. Somehow, they were all given a second chance at life. Though it had only been a month, there was much catching up to do. And none was going to waste this opportunity.

Nappa's jaw dropped. "How…?" He looked back at Moori. "Did you do this?"

"You have Bulma to thank for that, as well – she found a way to bring everyone that was killed by Frieza and his men back to life."

"That's incredible." Not only did they overthrow their oppressors, but also everyone who had died had returned. Never in a million years did he think that this would be possible. A small smile formed on his face, as he saw the Saiyans converse amongst each other. They all looked so joyful and relieved. He hadn't seen this kind of camaraderie in decades.

A figure weaved through the crowds, to approach Nappa. It was Zarbon. He was looking just as confused. He ran up to him. "Nappa, thank goodness. What's happened?"

"I think we won." He went on to explain to him everything that was told, to him.

Moori smiled, as he walked over to Dende. "Dende, dismiss Porunga, for now – we'll utilize the last two wishes, another time."

Dende nodded. "Yes, Elder." He repeated the request to the Dragon, now speaking in Namekian.

"Very well. Summon me, when you know your desires, for sure. For now, I bid you farewell." Porunga's eyes glowed red, and with a flash of light, he disappeared. The Dragon Balls remained where they were, retaining their golden sheen. The dark clouds dispersed, and the suns shined brightly, onto the plains, once again. Dende looked up at Elder Moori. He smiled down at him, and patted his head.

"Hey, over there!"

They looked up. "Nail! Miss Bulma," Dende exclaimed. He flew towards them, immediately. Moori and a few of the other Namekians followed, on foot.

As Dende reached them, Bulma landed on the ground. She gently sat Nail down, and gave them a big smile.

"We're so glad you made it home, alright," Moori told both of them. "And you managed to succeed in your quest, it seems."

"Yeah… that and then some, to say the least. We managed to get in contact with someone, back on Earth, who led us to the Dragon Balls there. They used that wish to bring everyone back. It was a huge risk, but it was worth it, I'd say."

" _Well done, Bulma. I knew you had it in you._ "

She looked up, with her eyes wide. "Grand Elder?!"

" _I knew you could do it, all along, child. You were always strong enough to prevail._ "

Tears filled her eyes again. She wiped them away, with the tip of her finger. "Thank you, Grand Elder. Thank you so much."

"There you go, Nail," Dende said, behind her. "I hope you're feeling better." She looked. Nail was standing up, again, bending his arms, and flexing his joints. He looked completely healed, again.

He smiled down at the Namekian child. "Of course. Thank you, Dende."

"You must have taken quite a beating back there. I don't think I've seen you this banged up, before," Moori said.

Bulma scooted next to him, and pointed her thumb at Nail. "I wouldn't have gotten anywhere without him. He took on Frieza before any of us did, and he came to help me and Piccolo, when we were in a tight jam."

Moori chuckled. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Nail. Thank you. The Grand Elder should be proud."

Nail bowed his head slightly, with a look of astonishment on his face. "Thank you, Elder." Bulma noticed that a shade of purple was tinting his nose, as he did so.

She glanced in the sky for a second. She blinked, and looked back up, swearing that she saw something flying above them. There was a little figure coming from over the horizon. She squinted, and tried to concentrate on the energy. She beamed, and started waving her hands.

"Piccolo! Hey, down here!"

The Namekians looked into the air. They had heard of him, through the comments and stories she would tell, while she was staying with them. Word rarely spread of Namekians living on other planets, and they were eager to meet him, for themselves. Only Bulma, Nail, and the Grand Elder knew the truth of his origins.

"That's odd…" Nail thought, out loud.

"What?"

"I'm sensing him, but there's someone else up there, with him."

Piccolo landed on the ground away from the other group. Bulma could see someone being held under his arm, but she couldn't make out whom it was. Their head was down, and their clothes were torn to shreds. He had a passive look on his face, as he approached the group.

When he reached them, he dumped the person he was holding right onto the ground.

Bulma gasped. "Vegeta!" She got down onto her knees, next to him. He wasn't conscious. He didn't look too bad, but he still had a few nasty scars on his skin. "What did Frieza do to him?!"

"He's fine," he said. "Whatever power up he received must have taken a toll on his body, because he passed out as soon as he got here."

Dende pushed Bulma back. "I-I'll heal him, right away! He'll be good as new, I promise!" He closed his eyes. Something flickered in between his antenna, and soon, his body was engulfed by a small aura. A tiny amount of energy pulsed from his hands, as he touched his forehead and torso. The aura took over Vegeta, as well. The scars and bruises on his body began to clear up. His eyelids twitched slightly, and his breathing began to pick up, again. When the aura disappeared, he was good as new, just as promised.

Vegeta flinched, and his eyes shot open. He immediately sat up. He didn't like how many people were crowding him. Wait. These were Namekians. He looked up at the sky, and down at the ground. He'd only ever seen it in pictures, but this was Planet Namek – no doubt about that.

"Welcome to Planet Namek, your majesty."

He snarled. He stood up and instinctively grabbed the older Namekian by his shirt. The crowd went to get him off, but Moori signed for them to wait. "How do you know who I am? Who the hell are you? How did I end up here?"

"I am Moori, the village elder. We were told of you before. You were wished off of Planet Vegeta, before it could explode, along with the rest of their inhabitants." He interrupted Vegeta right as he opened his mouth. "No: Frieza is still there; he's not here. The wish specified that everyone be brought to Planet Vegeta except for him."

His shoulders relaxed, and he let go of Moori. "How did you know of all of this?"

"A friend of yours, if I remember correctly; they told us everything we needed to know." He looked down at Bulma, with a knowing smile.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. What was he getting at? He followed his line of vision and turned around. She was sitting on the ground. A relieved expression crossed his face. This was the first time since they had met that he saw her in a healthy state. What he had been told that night in the training room felt real. Bulma was really alive and well.

He knelt down in front of her. He stared at her, as if he was making sure she was really in front of him. He sighed, and embraced her tightly, not wanting to let go. Bulma's body slacked, and she returned the tender squeeze. The crowd around them dispersed, letting them have their privacy.

Of everything he could have done, Bulma did not think that he would just hold her when they saw each other again. Was he not upset? She swore that he would be. She lied to him, led Frieza to the Dragon Ball, and was still responsible for everything that had happened to the Saiyans. She was expecting him to blow up at her, or something like that.

They didn't speak, though they both wanted to say so much. They sat in each other's arms in complete silence, enjoying the peace that they finally earned.

* * *

"…wow. I mean… wow."

"I know," Nappa said. "I didn't believe it, either."

Zarbon sighed. "I don't know how she did it, but that girl certainly is clever." He looked over the landscape at all of the Saiyans. The tearful reunions were still happening. It almost made his eyes water. "Still… it's incredible. We are very lucky. What will we do, next?"

Nappa nodded. "We'll wait until Vegeta finds the rest of us – it shouldn't take too long. Then, we'll discuss what we need to do, then."

Out of nowhere, there was a shout. "It's the king!"

"Speaking of which," Nappa said. All of the Saiyans were looking in one direction. He and Zarbon weaved their way through the crowds, to get to Vegeta.

When they reached the center, they looked just as shocked. This certainly was Vegeta, but it wasn't the one they were thinking of. This one was taller, dressed in fine armor and sporting a goatee.

Once Nappa found his voice, he said "Y-your majesty? You're alive, as well?!"

King Vegeta looked just as confused as everyone else was. "As well? What do you mean 'as well'? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going on, here?!"

Nappa shook his head. He had to explain this, calmly. "Your majesty, what did you last remember?"

"Well, before I woke up in a crypt and was transported to whatever this planet is, I remember Frieza killing me." They ignored the growls and gasps that came from the crowd.

"I don't know everything," Nappa said. "But after you died, Frieza staged a coup and took over the palace. He massacred the lot of us, before he managed to take it back. Apparently, the planet was about to explode, and one of our allies had us transported here."

Rage flickered in the king's eyes. "What did Frieza do?"

"He stole the throne, right when the prince was about to be coroneted. Many of us went to hide in the badlands, until we went back to the palace and overthrew him. Not all of us made it, though."

The king immediately shot into the air, looking around. Nappa and Zarbon went up after him, hoping he wasn't about to do something drastic. Unfortunately, he grabbed Zarbon by his armor. "You're one of his favorite soldiers! How can you dare to show your face amongst my people, after what you did?!"

"Y-your majesty," he stuttered. He understood his anger well, but he had to know the truth. "Please, let me explain-"

"Explain?! Your leader nearly killed our entire race! What is a simple 'explanation' going to do for you?!"

Nappa got in the middle of them. "Vegeta, please – calm down! Zarbon is not our enemy!"

"Is that true?! Then tell me – where is my son?! If he is not well, then you are going to pay for that!"

" _Your majesty, please. There is no need to be angry._ "

He blinked, his anger almost completely forgotten. "Who said that? Was it one of you?"

" _I am the Grand Elder of Planet Namek – welcome to my home. I understand you have been through much, these past days, but please listen to what I have to say._ "

Murmurs went through the crowd of Saiyans. They could all hear what he had to say, and were asking if anyone else had heard that calm and gentle voice, as well.

The king looked at the sky. "Yes… I thought I had recognized this planet. It's been so long since I had last heard from your kind." He looked at Nappa and Zarbon, for a moment. He nodded, and lowered himself back onto the ground. The others followed suit.

"Alright, Grand Elder – have the floor."

The Grand Elder explained their plan in depth. Nappa and Zarbon interjected, filling in the blanks of what had happened. There wasn't any room for ambiguity, by the time they had finished. Zarbon had betrayed Frieza to aid the Saiyans, and now they were all alive and well, on this planet.

The king was still angered, by all he had heard. His people had gone through all of that, and he wasn't able to protect them. Even though he had been dead, he still felt responsible. However, he knew that what was done had been done, and it had even been corrected.

"Where is that traitor, now," he finally spoke.

" _Left alone in the ruins of what he tried to create: destroyed by his ego and pettiness. It won't be long now, before it crumbles into dust._ "

He nodded. A perfect ending for him. "Do you know how he was defeated?"

"I can answer that, your majesty."

The king looked over to his right. The crowd had parted, as Nail stepped forward.

"This is the Namekian we told you of," Nappa said. "He came with the ally we spoke of. He had led Frieza away from the palace, so we could take it back."

"That ally he speaks of would be Bulma. She had been the one who wanted to come to Planet Vegeta, to aid you all. She fought Frieza until she couldn't any longer. She was the one who utilized two sets of Dragon Balls to thwart Frieza's plans. We would be nowhere, without her."

Bulma. That name sounded familiar to the king, but he couldn't place a face. He looked at Nappa, who nodded, confirming his statement. She must be a powerful warrior, to be able to take him on.

"Of course, she was not the only one. Much of the credit belongs to the prince."

"…my son?"

He nodded. "I was not there for the battle, but I could feel it. He had him up against the ropes, for most of it. The only reason Frieza had done what he did was because he was about to be killed."

The king was in awe. His son really had taken on a tyrant to defend his people, even if the odds were against him. That kind of leadership and selflessness was what it took to be a good king. He couldn't have been more proud than he was, in that moment.

"Where is he? He made it back, didn't he?"

A small smile formed on Nail's face. "Of course. We left him with her, so they could catch up."

The king blinked, and his eyes narrowed. "Catch up? What do you mean?"

Nappa had a similar smile on his face. "Let's just say you won't have to worry about him finding a suitor any longer."

"Suitor? What does that have to do with her? My son is mating the princess, is he not?"

Those who knew stifled chuckles; even Zarbon and Nail had to. "Your majesty," Nappa explained, with amusement in his voice. "Bulma is the princess."

Now, he looked shocked. "WHAT?!"

Nappa put his hand over his shoulder, and pulled him to the side. He looked to the crowd. "This one is going to take a bit longer to explain. Go about your business."

* * *

Vegeta and Bulma had remained in their embrace for what felt like a short while; in actuality, it was nearly ten minutes. Bulma ran her hands up and down his back, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been held, like this; not since she had left Earth, to be sure. Tears started to form in her eyes. She had never felt this cherished or loved in her life. How could she have thought that she could leave him, after everything they had been through together?

He gently pushed her off of him, after he felt her tears, holding her by her shoulders. She shook her head and laughed, as she tried to wipe her eyes. "I'm just… I'm just so happy to see you, again."

He let out humph. "Still so sentimental…" He said that, but she noticed that his eyes were glossy, as he stared at her.

A smile formed on her face. She took hold of his cheeks, and kissed him. He responded quickly, pulling her close. Relief overtook the young couple, as their bodies pressed against each others. They broke away and pressed their foreheads against each other. They had nearly lost everything, but they were together, again. Somehow, they knew everything was going to be fine.

Piccolo was standing a bit away from them, keeping a vigil eye on the lovebirds. He didn't think he'd ever understand love, or have any use of it, himself. However, if there was a true version of it, it was what they had. He didn't think he'd ever seen her smile that brightly, before. He couldn't even explain how, but they seemed to complete each other. It was a far cry from every other lovesick master he had.

He knew he was right in calling her bluff, earlier.

"So, this was the one she talked of."

Piccolo glanced at Nail, and nodded.

"I suspected it, from how he acted in front of Frieza, but I couldn't say anything, for sure. I haven't seen anything like it, before."

"You can say that, again…"

Nail smiled. "Bulma," he called out.

Bulma's eyes widened, and she turned around. Blushes were covering her and Vegeta's cheeks, thinking they had been caught. Had they been there, the whole time? "Y-yeah?"

Nail chuckled. "You two should come join, the others. The Saiyans would like to greet you, most likely." He started walking, and Piccolo followed him.

She looked at Vegeta. He nodded at her. They stood up together, and she started following Nail. He stopped her, for a moment. When she was about to question it, he took hold of her hand. A small grin formed on her face, and they walked to where everyone else was.

When they reached the crowd, Vegeta stopped in his tracks. There were so many more Saiyans than there were, before. Only now was he noticing that there were so many more energies. He wasn't able to tell before, only focusing on the fight with Frieza. As his mind scanned over the energies, one nearly made him fall over. It was one that was very familiar, to him.

Was that his father?

He started walking faster, once again. He had to see if this was a trick, or not. Eventually, he forgot about Bulma, and let her hand go, as he ran through the crowd. Sure enough, when he reached the source of the energy, his father was standing there, alive and well, speaking with Nappa.

"Father…"

The king was pulled from his conversation, when he heard his son's voice. His expression softened considerably. "Vegeta. It's good to see you, my son."

Vegeta was speechless. He didn't know what he was supposed to say, to that.

The crowd began to circle around them, as father and son were reunited, once again.

The king walked up to Vegeta, and put his hand on his shoulder. Vegeta flinched slightly, as he wasn't sure if it was a hallucination, or not.

"I was told of your bravery, in the face of Frieza. You brought much pride and honor to our family, and I could not be more proud of you." The king crossed his arm in front of his chest, in a traditional salute. His eyes were gleaming with pride, as he looked down at his son.

Vegeta blinked, before his expression grew serious. He nodded, and returned the salute to him. Nappa looked on, with relief. He wished that it didn't take this much for father and son to finally reconcile, but he was overjoyed that it happened, at all.

The reunion was cut short by shouting from the crowd.

"There she is! That piece of trash!"

One of the Saiyans, unaware of the extent of her aid, was shouting at Bulma. Piccolo pushed her behind him and Nail, ready to hit him, if he got too close. They both gave him stern glares, daring him to try something.

"Get out of my way, you overgrown slugs! That unruly fraud isn't worth protecting!"

Vegeta growled, and walked forward, grabbing the Saiyan by the collar of his armor. His eyes flashed teal, for a moment. "How dare you!"

The Saiyan was undeterred. "With all due respect, your highness, if it weren't for her, none of this would have happened! It's high time she learns her place!"

"Enough."

They both stopped, as they looked at the king. Vegeta dropped the Saiyan, and stood in front of the Namekians. "Father, listen to me-"

"Vegeta, it's okay."

Bulma had walked around Nail, and next to Vegeta, with her eyes downcast. She looked at Vegeta and smiled at him. He sighed, and stepped away.

She looked up at the king. He was looking down at her with a stern expression, and his arms crossed in front of his chest.

She sighed, and then spoke. "Your majesty... I'm sorry. I lied to you about being a princess. I led Frieza to the Dragon Ball. I never told you what I knew of him, the entire time. I was selfish and careless, with how I acted. I tried to make it all up, but… now you don't have a planet, anymore. Nothing I could say could make up for what I ended up costing all of you. I deserve whatever punishment you give me, for this." She bowed her head. Silence ticked on, as she waited for what he was going to say.

"No one so weak is ever capable of outclassing our strongest elite."

She winced, but knew that was what she deserved to hear.

"That is what I thought, once. And… I've never been more wrong in my entire life."

She opened her eyes and lifted her head. Then, the king did something that shocked her to her core. He got onto his knee, and bowed his head, in front of her. She stepped backwards, and her jaw dropped.

She looked up, and saw the crowds shifting. Soon, everyone was following suit, and kneeling in front of her. Some were only doing it out of reluctance, by the looks on their face, but others had a genuine look of gratitude and pride. She lifted her hand to her chest. She was starting to feel a bit lightheaded, looking at this display.

The king smile, as he stood up. "Saiyan or no Saiyan; princess or no princess; regardless, you've proven your worth, as far as I'm concerned." He sighed, and brought his hand to his chin, stroking his facial hair. "That law always has been a problem, hasn't it?" After a few seconds of thinking, he shrugged. "I suppose some things have to change with the times, won't they?"

Vegeta stepped beside Bulma, hoping he wasn't misinterpreting what he was saying. "Father, what do you mean?"

"Well, I am king, aren't I?" He turned to all of the Saiyans. "My noble subjects, I would like to make my first decree, in this new chapter of our history.

"From this day forward: if the prince chooses to mate, then he shall mate whomever he deems worthy."

No one was more shocked than Vegeta and Bulma were. They looked at each other, with wide eyes. They didn't know what to say, to each other. Bulma had gotten what she wished for. Vegeta had gotten the freedom he had wanted, in choosing a mate. They could finally be together, as themselves. She was the first to react. She nearly jumped into his arms, and he caught her, pulling her close, forgetting about the crowd around them.

"Three cheers for Bulma!"

The crowd erupted into whoops and cheers.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net November 25, 2017

The Grand Elder had confirmed that Planet Vegeta was no more. The planet collapsed, and exploded. No one could have survived it. The tyrant had been defeated. The Saiyans had been freed, and were all alive and well, again. All was as it should have been.

No occasion called for celebration more than this one.

The Saiyans and Namekians were brought together in an empty field for a large feast, as their ancestors once held. Differences were forgotten, as they celebrated their victory over tyranny.

The remnants of the council and the Namekian elders had sat with each other, earlier, to discuss their plans. Moori explained that Porunga could grant two more wishes, before he would need to rest, and the Saiyans could use them for whatever they needed. After debate, the king and his council agreed that they would revive their planet in another part of the galaxy. The last wish would take them to their new home. Of course, they would worry about that, later. Now was a time for festivity and merriment.

The king stood at the end of the table, with the Namekian elders sitting near him. He lifted his cup into the air. "I would like to take a moment to recognize our strongest fighters and allies.

"I doubt that we wouldn't have gotten to where we are now without the guidance and leadership of someone like Nappa. He took on the role with little fuss or jeering, and made sure that no Saiyan was left behind. We need more men like you, my friend."

The crowd gave a loud cheer, to that. Nappa just bowed his head, and smirked at the king, obviously humbled by his praise.

"Our next thanks goes to an unlikely ally – one that risked his life to aid us, in our cause. Zarbon, you dared to go against Frieza, when none of his men ever would, just for the sake of justice. I was wrong about you – there isn't a braver man than you."

Cheering continued, as before. Zarbon was standing a little ways from the table, chatting with a few Namekians. He was in awe, from the king's compliments. He crossed his arm over his chest and bowed.

"And of course, to our new friends – the people of Planet Namek. You have given much of your time and energy to our cause only out of the goodness of your hearts. We cannot thank you enough. Therefore, I decree that everyone living on Planet Namek will be declared honorary Saiyans!"

The Namekians were very surprised. Moori stood up. "Your majesty, this is very kind, but you don't need to do this."

He waved his hand. "Nonsense! You are our allies, and you have aided us when no one else would have. It is the least that we could do, in return. We can discuss the specifics of our alliance, later on. But enough about politics." He lifted his drink into the air. "To the Saiyan race. May we continue to prosper and thrive!"

The Saiyans acted in the toast, and drank their wine in one gulp, slamming it down on the table.

Vegeta was leaning against a house, not wanting to be the center of attention. He didn't want to answer any questions of how he succeeded. It was only a few hours ago that he was fighting for his life, against Frieza. He only wished to have momentary peace.

"Hey, there he is!"

He found himself shoved into a headlock, as Raditz rubbed his hair down, roughly. Vegeta only struggled a little.

"C'mon, why are you acting like such a wallflower? You won! You got rid of Frieza, you got the girl: why are you still moping? Celebrate a little bit, for once!"

Vegeta pushed himself away from Raditz. He straightened his hair and what was left of his armor. "I don't need a huge celebration to appreciate that. I'm not a hedonistic load, like you."

Raditz put his hand on his chest, feigning offense. "How rude of you, Vegeta. I thought you would be more grateful, is all. This party is for all of us, after all."

Vegeta shook his head, and looked away. Truth be told, he wouldn't mind relaxing, at this party. He just didn't want the attention that would inevitably bring.

It was as if Raditz could read his mind. "If you're worried about hecklers, I can scare them off. You should at least have a bit of fun, at this."

That was something he'd actually love to see. Why not? He had nothing to lose, from this. "Show me to the food."

Raditz gestured his hands to the right. "Well, right this way, your highness!" Vegeta just rolled his eyes, and went in that direction. "Oh, by the way, where did Bulma go? I haven't seen her, since the party started."

Vegeta thought. He hadn't seen her since then, either. She had excused herself sometime before then, but she hadn't come back yet. A little bit of concern formed in his gut, but he pushed it down. Namek was one of the safest planets in the galaxy; she'd be fine. Even if she were in trouble, he'd know of it, and could rush in to help. He'd look for her, once the festivities were over.

He shrugged. "Don't know where she ran off to."

* * *

Bulma was lying down on the soft blades of grass, watching the clouds go by. She could faintly hear the sounds of the celebration going on, behind her. She truthfully wasn't in the mood for such a large festival. She needed some peace and quiet, for once.

She was going to be with Vegeta. It's what she wanted this whole time. The only reason this whole mess started was because of that. The king accepted her. A few of the Saiyans were beginning to warm up to her. Vegeta looked even more excited about it than she was. Everything was perfect.

Why did she feel empty?

If this happened a month ago, she knew she'd be overjoyed. It was what she wanted. But now… she didn't know what she really wanted. She missed Earth so much. If she went through with this marriage, she knew she'd never get to see her family ever again. That was what she had longed for, ever since she got stuck on Planet Vegeta. Why did she throw that all away, when she met Vegeta?

"I didn't think it was like you to leave a party to mope."

She sat herself up slightly, and looked over her shoulder. Piccolo stood there, with his arms crossed.

She sighed. "I just needed some time to think." She lied back down. He walked up and sat down next to her.

"Piccolo, you were right. I wasn't thinking about any of this, when I made the wish."

"There's no need to beat yourself up over this, anymore. It's over. You got what you wanted."

"I know, I know…"

He looked down at her. "This is what you want, isn't it?"

She groaned. "I don't know. I don't know, anymore. I don't want to look anymore self-centered than I have, but… I don't think I can live with Vegeta, like he wants me to… I mean, I love him, but…" She covered her eyes with her forearm, nearly about to cry. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do…"

"Do you remember what I told you, at the palace?"

She rubbed her eyes, and stood up, to look behind her. "What do you mean?"

"When you were so worried about how you were going to impress Vegeta, what did I tell you to do?"

"Well… talk to him. But this is different, I can't just-"

"And how did that turn out?"

She didn't want to answer that. Everything ended up turning out fine, after she talked to him about it. The easy solution was staring her in the face, but she was still too scared to take it. She was afraid of the consequences. What if Vegeta got mad at her? What if he broke it off with her, right then? So many things could happen. She should just suck it up and do what others think she was going to do.

But then she'd just be trapped, again.

Eventually, she sighed. Lying down and moping wasn't going to solve the problem. She pushed herself off of the ground, and walked back towards the party. She was just going to go and talk to him, about this. Hopefully, the worst wouldn't come.

She saw Vegeta standing at the edge of the party, leaning against a building. He was drinking from a small glass. She took a deep breath, and went up to him. "Vegeta?"

He turned around. "There you are. Everyone was asking about you. Where were you?

"That's not important. Can we talk, for a moment? Please?"

His expression seemed to soften, hearing her tone. He put the glass on the ground, and followed her further away from the party. They went by a lake. Vegeta leaned against a rock. Bulma clasped her hands together underneath her, and bit her bottom lip. She didn't know how to start this.

"Vegeta… I-I was thinking about this whole thing. I want to be with you so much. It's what I wanted, ever since we met. It's just… just…"

"What? If you have something you need to say, spit it out."

He was right. She needed to come right out and say it. "I don't think I'm ready to be your mate."

His eyes widened. Before he could interject, she continued. "Please. It's not you. Not you, at all. I-I didn't know you were the prince, when we met, and I wasn't thinking about what me marrying you would entail. That's my fault – I didn't think it through, enough. I didn't think about my family on Earth, my life, or anything. I-I'm not queen material! I'd never been able to keep up with the rest of you. And I'd never be able to see my family, again, or visit home, or anything. And I've been away for too long, and I just…

"Maybe I could do it, in the future, but… not right now." She kept her head down, not wanting to look at him.

"This is a lot to unload on a man, all at once."

She nodded, in agreement. "I know. I'm sorry."

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for several moments. He was mad – he had to be, and he deserved to be. She could hear him drumming his fingers on his forearm.

"What if I found a way?"

She looked up. "Found a way? What are you talking about?"

"If I found a way so that you could live with me, and be able to see your home planet on a regular basis, would you live on Planet Vegeta, with me?"

Was he being serious? Did he want her to be with him that much? Those implications were swaying her opinions, on the matter. She didn't think she would ever mean that much, to him. The way he was looking at her certainly showed that.

How could she say no, to that?

She finally nodded, relenting. "I would."

A new look was in his eyes, now: a determined one. He stole a kiss from her, before leaving her standing in the middle of the small field. He was making his way back to the party, no doubt.

Bulma stood there, blinking. That didn't go, as planned. She plopped onto the ground, and put her face in her hands. Why did he have to be so persuasive? And why did she have to fall for it?

* * *

When the next sun passed overhead, the party ceased. The Saiyans were all resting together, in temporary homes, needing the extra shut-eye. Bulma had gone back to Moori's village, needing some decent shut-eye. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep, being so exhausted after all that had happened. She stayed asleep until the next sun began to rise.

She was standing in the small hut, finally able to dress in a clean set of clothes. She didn't throw away the rags that remained of her old outfit, though. She couldn't bring herself to do it. It felt like a trophy, symbolizing all of the things she had been through, this past month. So much had changed, in such a short amount of time. She still couldn't wrap her head around it all.

Someone knocked on the entryway. She turned around and saw Vegeta standing there. He had small bags under his eyes, and his hair was a bit disheveled. It was obvious that he hadn't gotten any sleep. He motioned for her to follow him. She sighed, as he led her just outside of the village.

"I spoke with my father, earlier," he said.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Yes…?"

"Reconstruction is not going to be easy, and we do not have the man-power to do it, all on our own. We're going to need aid from other worlds, and create new relationships with them, to get back to where we once were."

She was puzzled, by the non sequitur. She thought this was about what they had spoken of, earlier. He was just talking about politics. What did this have to do with anything?

"When we rebuild, we will need to appoint people to act as ambassadors to us, for other planets. We will have to look at many options all across the galaxies - even smaller planets that haven't had much contact with us."

She still wasn't sure what he was getting at. She sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair. "Vegeta, what are you implying?"

"One of our own would travel to that planet, and try to convince them to join us, in an alliance. They would gain aid, protection, and revenue, in exchange for trade and taxes. If that planet has many resources, they would gain much, from the system. Of course, said ambassador would have to visit there often, to make sure business is still good, and that the planet is acting within the terms of the alliance."

Was he offering her the position? It was starting to sound like that. It sounded interesting, but it still didn't solve the issues she had, earlier. The constant travel only gave her less time to possibly go home, to Earth.

Unless…

That's when it clicked, for her.

"Do you mean Earth?"

He looked a little annoyed it took her that long to catch on, but he nodded.

He wanted her to be an ambassador to Earth. It made sense. Earth certainly had an abundance of resources that they didn't know what to do with. Imagine all of the connections that could bring and the buyers that would attract. And she'd actually get to see her family, again. She'd actually get experience in delegating. All of that, plus being able to stay with Vegeta… she couldn't think of a downside.

"Do you think I'm cut out, for it?"

"You managed to convince Namek to aid in the rebellion – I doubt you couldn't convince your own kind to join with us. Plus, having a non-Saiyan diplomat will show how we're willing to cooperate with other races."

She looked down and bit her bottom lip. It sounded perfect. Too perfect, even. There had to be a catch. She didn't want to promise something, and then find out she was in way over her head. That was how she got stuck in this situation, in the first place.

He took her hands, as she mulled over it. "You won't be alone. I promise you that I'll be by your side, every step of the way."

Hearing that from him took her trepidation, away. When she came to Planet Vegeta all those years ago, she had no one with her. She didn't know anyone, and she felt trapped because of it. Now, she had friends and familiar faces by her side. Maybe this was worth the risk.

She intertwined their fingers and nodded. "Okay. I'll do it."

His shoulders relaxed. He cupped her cheeks, and initiated a slow kiss. Her hands settled on his shoulders. She let out a shaking sigh, against his lips. He had gone out of his way to make all of this work. That said more about how he felt than words ever could.

"You won't regret this," he said. "I promise you that."

* * *

Before they were getting ready to gather up all of the Saiyans and leave, Nail had stopped by. The Grand Elder had requested an audience with the king and the prince, before they were sent off. He also wanted to see Bulma one last time, and wish her off.

Nail led them to the Grand Elder's home. It was still sitting on top of a plateau, overlooking a vast sea. Vegeta seemed to be the only one surprised by this – the king wasn't fazed by it, at all. The door opened, and all of them stepped inside, flying up to the second floor.

Nail knelt down in front of the Grand Elder. "Elder, I've brought the Saiyans and Bulma, as you requested."

"Excellent as usual, Nail."

Vegeta flinched backwards, when he saw how huge the Grand Elder was. Bulma thought it was cute, remembering that she had the exact same reaction, when she met him. The king, however, was much more collected. It was almost as if he had been here, before.

The king walked up him, and bowed. "It's been a while, Grand Elder, hasn't it? I apologize over not recognizing your voice, earlier. I should have known it was you."

"Nonsense," the Grand Elder replied, with a laugh. "It's good to see you well, once again."

Vegeta pointed at him. "Father, you know him?!"

"Vegeta: that is no way to behave in front of such an honest man. And I met him long ago, after I became king. You hadn't even been born, yet."

That shut him up. Vegeta quickly bowed, as well.

"Our people cannot thank you enough, for all that your kind have done, for us. We are forever in your debt, for your generosity and kindness. If there is anything you ever need, tell your brothers to contact us, first."

The Grand Elder held up his hand. "Please. We do not need repayment. The knowledge that we aided someone in a time of need is plenty. I've found a safe place in the galaxy for you to be, as you begin to rebuild; far enough away from your old planet, but still close enough to your allies. Porunga will place it there, when the wish is made. May it do you well."

"You are far too kind, Grand Elder." The king bowed, once again.

"Now, Vegeta, I'd like to speak to you, as well."

Even after everything he'd been through, even Vegeta was a bit intimidated by him. He looked over at Bulma; she gave him a reassuring smile, and nodded at him. Vegeta straightened his back and approached the Grand Elder. He got onto his knee, and knelt in front of him. If his father saw him as a figure to be respected, he would do it.

"Stand up, please – we are all equals, here."

Vegeta's eyes widened, and he stood up, again.

The Grand Elder sighed. "I know the pain of losing one's race far too well, your highness. Even if you all have returned, the scars from it may never heal. However, it can be used as ammunition for your future endeavors. Use this experience to hone your strength and skills, so that it may never happen, again."

Vegeta nodded. "I was planning on it."

"Good. I have one last question to ask – when you were transported here; your strength outmatched any other being I've ever felt. Were you, by any chance, a Super Saiyan?"

"A Super… the Legendary?!" The king ran up to Vegeta. "Son, is this true?"

Vegeta nodded. "It was Frieza. He… he told me the truth about what happened to my mother… I felt so much anger in that moment and… something snapped within me."

The king clenched his fist, before letting it hang free. He shook his head, and closed his eyes, letting out a labored sigh. "Yes… anger always has been our greatest trigger."

Vegeta looked back up at the Grand Elder. "Why do you want to know?"

"I believe you are capable of tapping into that power, again, and controlling it. It would make you a powerful warrior. Perhaps you'd be able to pass the knowledge and skills onto more of your people.

Vegeta looked down, on himself. If he could tap into that power, again, that would be incredible. He'd be able to protect his people, from future threats. He was filled with purpose. He lifted his chin high and nodded. "I will."

"I have no doubt that you will, Vegeta.

"I wish to speak with Bulma alone, for a moment. Will you two step outside?"

Vegeta and the king went back down to the lower floor, heading for the door. Vegeta let his hand brush by Bulma's for a moment, before he jumped to the first level. Bulma watched him as he left, and a small smile, formed on her face.

She went up to the Grand Elder, and clasped her hands. "Well... it managed to work, as you can see!"

The Grand Elder smiled. "I knew that it would. You had a bit of help from Earth, according to Nail."

"Yeah… Kami managed to hear about what was happening, and gathered the Dragon Balls on there, to help us. Thank god Piccolo could communicate with him, like that."

"You were very lucky, indeed. It was very risky, what you planned, but the reward was well worth it, I see."

She laughed. "You could definitely say that. So… if you're able to see if Planet Vegeta is gone… are you able to feel any life coming from where it was?"

"Sadly, that is beyond my vision. However, I doubt that Frieza will be giving you much trouble, anymore."

"That's what I like to hear." She bowed her head, slightly. "Thank you, for all your help… and for believing in me. Without you and Nail, I wouldn't have been able to do any of this."

"You would have found a way, no doubt. You're cleverer than you think you are."

"Regardless, thank you."

Nail chose this moment to step in. "Bulma: before you leave, I want you to know one thing. You were an excellent student, and I'm proud to call you a friend."

She blinked. Her heart sore, with his words. No one had ever said anything so kind-hearted to her, before. The look in his eyes told her he wasn't fibbing, either.

He caught her by surprise; when he bent down to hug her. She quickly returned the embrace, burying her head in his shoulder blade.

She sniffed. "I promise I'll come and visit any chance I get."

"I look forward to that."

She broke away from Nail, and looked up at him. He smiled, and tossed her hair. She looked at the Grand Elder. She bowed to him, before leaving the small hut.

* * *

"Have you another wish, to make?"

"Now," Moori said. "Ask Porunga to wish Planet Vegeta back into existence."

One of the Namekians nodded, and repeated the request to the Dragon, in their native tongue.

"As you request, so it shall be." Porunga's eyes glowed red. All of the bystanders stood by, in anticipation, hoping that it would work.

"It is done: Planet Vegeta has been restored to what it once was."

The Saiyans gave a loud cheer, in response.

"Thank you all, once again," the king spoke. "We wish you and your people wealth and prosperity, for the rest of your lives."

"We wish the same for you, your majesty," Moori spoke.

Bulma was standing next to Vegeta, as Moori and the king exchanged farewells. The same was going for some of the other Saiyans and Namekians, as well. Her chest warmed, looking at the camaraderie that had been formed in such a short amount of time.

"Good luck to you, Miss Bulma," Dende said. "Come back and visit us, soon!"

She gave him a smile. "I'll definitely try to."

"Well, now that our goodbyes are sorted out," the king said, "I do believe we should be going to our new home."

She glanced up at a cliff, as the king spoke. She did a double take. Her eyes widened, and her heart started racing.

"Alright, then. Now, ask Porunga to-"

"Wait," she yelled.

Everyone turned to her, wondering what the hold-up was.

Vegeta leaned in to her. "What is it," he asked, in a hushed voice.

"I-I'm sorry, I forgot something important! Please, just wait a few moments!" Without any further explanation, she jumped into the air, and flew towards the cliff. Once she hit the ground, she started running.

She stopped. He had his back turned to her. She stood there, not sure what she needed to say. "You're staying here?"

"For now. Don't know how long I'll stay."

"Where will you go, if you leave?"

Piccolo glanced over his shoulder, at her. "Why do you need to know?"

"I mean… I wouldn't mind seeing you, again."

He sighed. "I suppose I should head back to Earth, eventually; Kami and I have some things we need to sort out."

"That's great! See? I was right – you're different than your dad was. He would have taken this opportunity to enact revenge, wouldn't he?"

"He would have."

They stood there in silence. There was much that both of them wanted to say, but neither of them knew how to say it. Finally, Bulma lifted her chin, and straightened her back. She knew that she might not have the opportunity to do this, again; she had to show this, now.

She ran up to him, and hugged him from behind. His arms fell to his sides. He looked down at her, and she only squeezed him tighter.

Her voice began to waiver. "I-I'm gonna miss you, Piccolo."

"…you too, kid."

He didn't make a move to push her off, and just let her hug him. They stayed like that for several moments, until Bulma heard someone calling for her. She broke away, and started running back towards the other Saiyans.

"Take care of yourself, Bulma."

She stopped and turned around. She smiled, as tears formed in her eyes. "You too."

She went back down, to rejoin the rest of the group. She wiped away the stray tears with the back of her hand. Vegeta looked at her, concerned. She shook her head, telling him it was nothing.

"Well, if we're truly done with everything," the king said. "Now, I think we can go to our new home."

Moori motioned towards the Namekian standing in front of Porunga. "If you please, then."

He nodded, and said the request in his native tongue: send all of the citizens of Planet Vegeta to the new Planet Vegeta.

"As you request, so it shall be."

The colony was engulfed by a white aura. Their visages began to shake, as they vanished into thin air. A few of them waved, and said goodbye one last time. The Namekians tried to shout their last goodbyes at them, before they disappeared.

"The people of Planet Vegeta are now on their new home world. I shall take my leave. Farewell." Porunga flew into the sky, taking the Dragon Balls up with him. The balls spun in a circle, and shot off to the far ends of Planet Namek.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net December 15, 2017

Bulma sat outside of the meeting room. She drummed her fingers on the folder she was holding, trying to listen to what was going on, inside. She wanted to be prepared for the kind of atmosphere she was entering. She hadn't been in a boardroom in years, and she was a bit out of practice.

The door swung open, and Nappa stepped out into the hallway. "Bulma, we're ready for you."

She took a deep breath. "Alright." She squared her shoulders, and walked into the meeting room. She stood in front of the council, and all eight men stared at her with intense scrutiny. The king was sitting at the end of the table, with his hands propped on the tabletop. She couldn't lose her nerve, now. She had to propose this to them.

"Gentlemen," she began. She sat her folder down on the table, and pushed it towards the center. "As I'm sure you're well aware, reconstruction is going to be a hefty task for us to take on. We won't be able to do it, alone; I can guarantee that. On Earth, when a country or city was in crisis, other nations stepped in to aid them. If we can get other planets to aid us, it would be a great asset, to us."

The king had picked up her folder, and was flipping through the contents. "So," he spoke, "you're proposing we start forming alliances, is that correct?"

She nodded. "That's exactly it, your majesty."

"No," one of the councilmen shouted. "That kind of aid is what got us into this mess, in the first place! We can look after our own!"

"Actually, we can't. I've done the logistics, and put it into the documents I've given you. If we take on the task by ourselves, it could take decades for us to recover to where we once were. We need intergalactic aid. We don't have to let them do everything, for us, but we should accept some help."

"They're not going to do it for free," said another councilman. "What will we offer in repayment?"

"How about manpower? We can easily lend our power to other nations, who need protection and aid. You'll be able to profit off of your people's natural strength and talents."

"You're suggesting we become mercs?"

"Not exactly. I'm not saying we lease out our manpower to the highest bidder. However, that manpower can be a great asset, for conducting treaties."

The papers were passed around the table. Some of the men looked to be more open-minded about it, but others were still pouting and glaring. So far, only one person had an outburst. Maybe the rest of this would go smoothly. She shuffled in place, as they quietly conversed with each other about her suggestions.

"Bulma," the king finally said, "This is all very well researched and presented. Now that we've had a moment to look over the documents and your proposal, I believe we should vote on it.

"All in favor of the proposal say aye."

Six of the councilmen raised their hands with an aye. Nappa was one of them.

"All opposed."

Two raised their hands, with a nay. They were giving her dirty looks, as they did.

"Well, we have a clear majority, here. Was there anything else you needed to say, Bulma?"

"Yes. I don't know how this works, but… I would like to volunteer myself, as an ambassador."

One of the councilmen slammed his hands on the table. "What?!" A mild chaos broke out, as they argued and yelled at each other and at Bulma. The king stood up, and hushed everyone. He looked at her, motioning for her to explain herself.

"I feel like having someone who isn't a Saiyan might benefit relations. They'll think you're willing to work with other nations, and be more inclined to join your side. I'm willing to work with both you all and any of our potential allies, to reach an agreement."

"Absolutely not! You just proposed all of this, so you can weasel your way into power, didn't you?!"

"No, of course not! I just want to get involved more, and help you move into the future!"

"What makes you think you're qualified to do this? Why does it have to be you?"

Nappa raised his hand. "She did convince the Namekians to aid us, in the rebellion."

"That's right," another councilman said. He held up a paper, in the folder. "According to this, she aided business moguls, on her home planet. If she knows how to talk to them, I think she's qualified."

The earlier councilman looked enraged. He threw his arms out, towards Bulma. "Qualified? Her?! She's barely qualified to be a concubine, let alone an 'ambassador'!"

"That's enough," the king spoke. He looked like he was teetering on controlling his temper.

"Your majesty, don't stick up for the little harlot. We all know the reason she's sticking around here – no need to defend her."

Nappa was the next one to step in. "That is completely uncalled for, and unprofessional!"

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I know we're all thinking it."

"DAMMIT, JUST SHUT UP, YOU MORON!"

The room went silent, after Bulma screamed. Her face was red, with anger, and her knuckles were turning white, from her clenched fists.

"I will not stand here and let you insult me right to my face! And I know you wouldn't be making these same comments, if I were a Saiyan. This isn't my first rodeo. I've dealt with men like you, before. You're not going to run me out of this, you hear that?!"

The councilmen glanced at each other, keeping conversations in hushed whispers. They looked incredibly shocked by her sudden outburst. Nappa was looking up at her, in pride, and even the king had a small smirk on her face. The offending councilman was seething, in his seat.

"There's my application. Take it or leave it."

She immediately turned around, and marched out of the room, not looking back.

"Wow. The little lady's got guts," one of the men said.

* * *

Bulma put her face in her hands. "How I could I have been so stupid," she screamed.

Raditz shrugged, as he sat next to her. His feet were propped up on the table, and he was eating a fruit. "Trust me: if what Nappa has said about the council is true, then they probably deserved it."

"I still feel like I blew it. They'll never take me in, now."

"Hey, if they don't – screw 'em. They won't know what they're missing. You can still go out and do things, without an official position."

"Sure. But I don't want to get any further on their bad side," she muttered.

Raditz slung his arm around her shoulder. "You still got us, on your side – I won't let them kick you out. And if they do, then they'll have to answer to Vegeta."

He was right, but she still wished that she were more accepted. Sure, Nappa and Raditz loved her, and the king had been thrilled, to have her around. And, of course, there was Vegeta. But she still wished that she felt like she belonged, here. This was her new home, but it didn't feel like one, at all.

Someone cleared their throat.

Raditz waved. "Hi, Vegeta! We were just talking about you! How are you?"

Bulma's head shot up. She smiled, awkwardly, at Vegeta. He was standing in the doorway, with an unimpressed look on his face. Raditz didn't seem phased, by it; he hadn't even moved his arm off of her.

"What brings you here?"

Vegeta glanced at Bulma, then at Raditz. When he didn't seem to get the idea based on that, he groaned. "I'd like to talk to Bulma alone."

Raditz put his hands up and set his feet down off of the table. "Alright. Cool. You should have said something, man. See you guys around." He stood up and sauntered out of the room, at a leisurely pace.

Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose. "He didn't give you much trouble, did he?"

Bulma shook her head. "Not at all. We were talking about the meeting…"

"They'd be fools not to accept you." He sat down, next to her.

She ran her fingers through her hair. "I don't think they like me very much. One of them said I was only here to be your whore."

His fists clenched, slightly. "Who was it?"

She sighed, and closed her eyes. "That's only going to make things worse, and you know it."

He put his arms around her, and pulled her to him. "Then they'll just have to learn to deal with it. Just ignore what those idiots say."

She eventually nodded. She leaned her head on his shoulder, nestling her face into the crook of his neck. Ever since they had gotten back, he had gotten a lot more affectionate, with her. He was often the one to initiate the kisses and cuddling. Not that she didn't appreciate it, nor that she didn't understand; they just weren't taking their relationship for granted, anymore.

"Anything else new," she asked him.

He didn't respond. She looked up at him. "Vegeta?"

His eyes were glued to a spot on the floor. "We received word from the Colds – Frieza's family."

She immediately sat up. "What? Are they mad?"

He sighed. "I don't know. They only told us they are… aware of what happened. Nothing else, besides that. I'm guessing it's a warning to never anger them."

"This is why we need to have the alliances. If we can build up a network of support, even if they do attack, we'll have people to help us, along the way." She shook her head. "Luckily, that seemed to be the thing the council approved of…"

"Unless they get desperate, they won't attack directly. It would give their subservient planets the impression that we weren't a threat. That would encourage rebellion."

"I hope you're right…"

* * *

Bulma was up late that evening, tinkering with some local technology. There was a knock at the door, disrupting her work. She rubbed her eyes, and slowly stood up from her workstation, going to answer the door.

She became very awake and alert, when she saw who it was. She bowed. "Your majesty, what brings you here?"

The king shook his head, and put his hand up. "Bulma, Bulma, you know that you don't have to address me so formally."

"Oh, um, what brings you here, then?"

"I came to give you the news, from the council meeting."

Oh great. She was already dreading the answer. "Yes. What is it?"

A smirk formed on his face. "We voted in favor of your application. You will now be one of our new ambassadors, to other worlds." He handed her a piece of paper.

Her jaw dropped, as she read through the document. It was an official statement, saying that she had been accepted. "Are you serious?!"

"After some debate, there was a clear majority. Most of us thought that you were qualified, for the job. Congratulations, Miss Bulma. We've even narrowed down a few planets, for you to visit. You'll only be an ambassador to one planet, though."

She turned over the document, to read the other side. She saw many unfamiliar names, but one stood out to her. She covered her mouth. Her eyes began to water. She read over the names as many times as she could, to make sure she was reading it correctly, but the name stayed the same.

Earth.

She out a laugh and she smiled a bright smile. Unexpectedly, she pounced on the king, giving him a hug. "Thank you!" Though he did not return the embrace, his lips turned up into a genuine smile. "Thank you so much! This means the world to me!" It hadn't even registered to her that she had glomped the king. Only one thing was on her mind, as tears streamed down her cheeks.

She was finally going home.

* * *

Bulma stood on the freshly mowed lawn of Capsule Corporation. Her home. She looked up at the giant dome, as it reached all the way to the sky. She promised herself she wasn't going to get emotional, but seeing this building again hit her in the gut. Not much had changed, since she left, and she couldn't comprehend that she had managed to stay away, for this long.

She walked up to the door. Hesitantly, she pushed her finger towards the scanner next to the door, and pressed.

Several tense seconds ticked by, as she waited for a response.

"Welcome, Bulma," said a robot voice. With that, the door slid open.

Bulma stepped through the door, and closed it behind her. She looked around. Not much had changed, since she left home. The same pictures were on the living room walls. The same furniture was placed on the floor. It looked just the way it did, three years ago.

She went further into the house. She stopped, when she heard someone humming in another room. Even years later, she knew that could only be one person. She followed the noise into the kitchen.

Sure enough, her mother was standing in front of the kitchen counter, mixing drinks and swaying her hips to the song she was humming. She hadn't even aged a day, since she left. Bulma let out a noise, and covered her mouth. A few tears managed to slide down her cheeks, and she smiled.

Bulma's mother finished mixing the drinks, and grabbed a few glasses from the cupboard. When she looked at the kitchen doorway, she dropped them, and they shattered on the floor. Her eyes were still closed, but she clasped her hands together, in joy surprise. "Bulma! You're back!"

"Hi, mom."

"Look at you! You've grown up so much!" She immediately grabbed her arm, and started dragging her out of the house. "Oh, your daddy's going to be so excited to see you, again! Oh, how was your trip? I'm sure you made a lot of friends, out there!"

Bulma laughed, and looked to the side. It was odd. Her mother was acting more as if she got home from school – not as if she had been on another planet for three years. "I'll explain all that, when we see dad."

Bulma's mother led her to the atrium. "Yoohoo, sweetie! Come out and see who came to visit!"

Bulma's father was sitting by a pond, studying the wildlife. A little black cat was perched on his shoulder, hanging on for dear life. He stood up. "Ah, Bulma. Didn't know you'd be back, so soon. Great to see you, again."

She sighed. "It's great to be back, dad."

"I'll go grab some Shirley Temples, and we can all catch up!"

"Make mine a root beer, Panchy."

"Okay, sweetums!" She went towards the exit of the atrium, heading back to the kitchen.

Bulma's father sat down at a small lawn chair. "So, how was Planet Vegeta?"

She pulled up a chair, and sat adjacent to him. "It was hot. And stuffy. And dry. They practically don't have seasons."

He shrugged. "Sounds like a summer in South City. Make any friends, while you were out there?"

"That's… that's actually what I need to talk to you and mom about. It's kind of important."

The cat meowed, and jumped down onto Dr. Brief's lap, then to the ground. He walked over to Bulma, and poked her ankle with his paw.

She reached down to pick him up. "Hey there, Tama." Tama nuzzled his face against her cheek, licking her. She giggled, when it rested on her shoulder.

Dr. Brief laughed. "I think he missed you, too."

"I'm baack!" Panchy came, carrying a tray of drinks. She set them down on the table, and pulled up another chair. "Now, you have to tell us everything that happened!"

She sighed, and grabbed one of the drinks. "Well… I actually gained a position of power."

"Oh, that's wonderful! Did you woo the king, or something?" Her parents laughed, at the idea.

Bulma glanced down. She didn't expect them to get that close, to the truth. "No. I'm going to be an ambassador, for them."

Brief took a gulp of his root beer. "Ah – putting all those debate classes to good use, I see. How long have you been one?"

"Only for a month. I'm meeting with King Furry and his cabinet, tomorrow afternoon. We wanted to bridge a stronger alliance between Planet Vegeta and Earth. The Saiyans… came under a bit of a crisis, recently, and they need help rebuilding." She promised herself that they would never find out the truth about what happened.

"Well, that's good. I'm proud of you, sweetheart."

She smiled. "Thanks, daddy."

"That can't be it," Panchy interjected. "Surely, you did something, other than politics! You surely made some friends out there, didn't you?"

She scratched the back of her neck. She was dreading this part, but she knew they should know sooner than later. "You asked if I had wooed the king earlier, right?" She paused. "It was technically the prince."

Her mother gasped. "Oh my goodness! My little girl is a princess!"

Bulma put her hands up. "Hey, we're not actually married, yet."

Panchy grabbed Brief's hand. "Oh, sweetie, isn't it wonderful? Bulma's in love!"

He nodded. "After Tights said she didn't want to get married, I didn't think this would ever happen. What a bargain!"

"Oh, I can't wait to meet him! I bet he's handsome, too!"

"Stop, stop! We're not married! We've just been dating for a while. I'm not a princess." She shifted in her seat. She had come up with a story, to tell them. "My internship ended, when some scientists at the palace noticed my work, and I went to work for them. I became friends with the prince, and the relationship came from that. I'm not royalty."

Panchy lifted her hand on her cheek. "It's soooo romantic! It's just like something out of a fairytale!"

"What's the young man's name?"

"It's Vegeta."

"Well, I hope we get to meet him, soon. Tell him he's welcome here anytime."

She nodded. She was relieved that they seemed to be taking this revelation well. "I'll be sure to."

"How long will it take until I get to meet my grandchildren?"

"Mama!"


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FF.net December 16, 2017

_Three months later._

Bulma was awoken by a loud alarm. "Attention – destination approaching in t-minus 10 minutes," a robotic voice said. A red light was engulfing the pod, before it was quickly shut off. She was tired. She rubbed her eyes, trying to wake herself up. When she tried to sit up, she felt herself being restrained. When her vision focused below her, she could see a brown cord was wrapped around her waist. She slowly followed the trail, and saw Vegeta looking at her. He had an amused smile on his face.

She slumped against him, letting out a groan. "And I thought jet lag was bad…"

"You'll get used to it," he said.

She grimaced, as she thought of something. "I thought you've barely been off Planet Vegeta."

"I still had to go through training, for it."

She rolled her eyes, and shoved him as much as she could. "Not everyone is a warrior alien prince like you, Vegeta." She gave an over-exaggerated yawn. She could hear him chuckling, next to her.

Her head was still spinning. She barely registered Vegeta shifting her up, as he reclined on the seat of the pod. She laid her head down on his chest, as she rested on top of him. She closed her eyes, and sighed.

The meeting with King Furry and his cabinet had gone incredibly well. They were overjoyed at the prospect of working with another planet. Now that the ice had been broken, she had to meet with the other world leaders, and convince them that this was a good idea. The king had other commitments, so Vegeta went with her, instead.

"I hope you like Earth," she spoke, candidly. Her fatigue disabled her filter, for the moment.

His hand smoothed up and down her back, while the other was rested on her head. He didn't respond to her, but continued the soothing caresses. She wished they could stay like this, forever. She still thought she was crazy for thinking she could leave him.

* * *

Bulma and Vegeta stood in front of Capsule Corporation, together. Bulma held her hand out. "I'll go in. You stay here. Okay?" He had no clue why she was being so picky about where he stood, but he nodded.

She walked around the house, towards the gardens. This was always the time of day she would water the flowers. "Mom? You out here?"

"Bulma! So nice to see you, again!" Sure enough, she was watering her petunias. "You feeling famished? I can whip you up something to eat!"

"Maybe later, mom. There's someone I want you to meet, first. Can you go get dad?"

Panchy dropped the watering bucket, and clasped her hands together. "Oh, of course! I'll find him, right now!" She walked towards the back entrance of the house, whistling.

Bulma ran back in front of the house, and grabbed Vegeta by the arm. "My mom's getting my dad. Just to warn you – they can be… weird."

He gave her a bizarre look. "Noted."

"Just be casual. They'll love you." She gave him a quick kiss, before they started heading back.

Right when they got back, Bulma's parents had come out. She was telling him that Bulma wanted him to meet someone. She said she wasn't able to tell him much more, than that.

She breathed in, shifting her hand down to hold Vegeta's. "Mom, Dad: I want you to meet Vegeta."

Before Vegeta even had a chance to say anything, Panchy was in his face. He'd say she was staring at him, but her eyes were still close. "Oh, you're Vegeta! My, my, what a handsome young gentleman! You really hit the big bucks, Bulma! Who would have thought my little girl would end up with a prince?"

Bulma gently pushed her mother backwards, as Vegeta was clearly very uncomfortable. "Vegeta, this is my mom. That's my dad, back there."

Brief walked over, and stuck out his hand. "Howdy!"

Vegeta stared at his hand, not knowing what to do. He glanced at Bulma. She nudged his arm, pointing at his hand. Eventually, he grabbed his hand, and shook it.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, my boy. How long are you two planning on staying?"

"The meeting with the world leaders is in a few days," Bulma said. "We're planning on taking an extended leave, and enjoy our time, here."

"That's just wonderful! I can't wait to get to know your trendy beau!"

Vegeta gawked at Bulma's mother. Of all the things in the world, he'd never been called 'trendy', before.

Bulma interjected. "How about we all go inside, and catch up that way?"

"Of course! I'll get something started, in the oven! Sweetums, will you lend me some extra hands?"

"Sure thing, honey."

"Feel free to make yourselves comfortable, in the parlor!"

"But not too comfortable!" They laughed, as they went into the house, together.

Both Bulma and Vegeta had a light red tint covering their noses and cheeks. Bulma groaned, and put her palm in her face. She had forgotten how embarrassing her parents were.

"I can see where you get your imprudence from."

She shook her head, and shoved him. "Just shut up, and go inside."

He put his arm around her, and they walked towards the house.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! Hope those of you who haven't read this story yet enjoyed this! Thank you so much for reading! I hope to get the next chapter in the saga up very soon. Keep your eyes open for that. If you're just following me for Bulchi stuff, I'm still working on that. My flagship story has just taken precedence over Like A Wish Come True, at the moment. 
> 
> And, once again, if you're impatient and want to read the next story, it is available in its entirety of FF.net.

**Author's Note:**

> Original A/N:
> 
> After years of not trying to write fanfiction, I decided to throw my hat into the ring and write something special. This is an idea I've had since I got into Dragon Ball in June of 2015. Well, after endless months of revising and planning, I decided that it was time to finally post it. Enjoy!


End file.
